


Write Now: We Are Untitled

by Scylla87



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Fake Relationship, Forced Closeting, M/M, Rimming, Smut, Unrequited Love, artist/modelzayn, handjobs, poetliam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5372348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla87/pseuds/Scylla87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam is a young poet just starting to come into his own when he finds himself at a crossroads in both his personal and professional life. Zayn is an artist who often finds himself a part of his own pieces but could never imagine that he might be someone else's muse. The pair of them collide twice causing ripple effects in both of their careers, but a great opportunity for them both will drag them back together. Will either of them ever recover completely, or will this encounter change them forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Poet Is Introduced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to forewarn my readers, if I end up having any, that I do have a tendency to get distracted. I got this idea that I thought would be better as a series than a one shot, and I am going to try to make sure and update at regular intervals. So this may end up being completed fairly quickly, if only so I don't lose my train of thought. Hopefully someone out there likes this. I tend to be pretty heavy on the smut at times, because that is what I like in the stories I read, but it might take me a little while to get to it. I welcome any comments and suggestions that any of you might have. Enjoy.

Chapter 1: The Poet Is Introduced

Before the words had even come out of her mouth he knew exactly what she would say. It was the same thing they always said. "Would you please read 'Untitled'?" she asked. She said it so kindly it was hard for him to refuse.

Liam sighed heavily. This would be at least the one hundredth time he would read this very poem. They always wanted to hear it, a fact even he had been unprepared for. When he and set out on this book tour he had thought the publishers were geniuses when they suggested that he allow the fans to request the poems he would read that night. Surely it would save him from having to read the same poem over and over again, night after night. He had obviously been wrong. There was one standout favorite from his new work; one poem whose words he wrapped his lips around each night. 'Untitled'.

He reached blindly into the small stack of books beside him and extracted a thin tome. His fingers had flipped to the necessary page automatically. Without taking his eyes off the assembled group seated almost statuesquely before him, Liam began to read:

"I have been thinking of your cock  
Up against me, ever ready  
To ease between the sheets.  
I have been thinking of your hands  
Your fingers, ever roving  
To places yet unseen.  
I have been thinking of your mouth  
Your tongue, ever probing  
Into my growing heat.  
I have been thinking of your eyes  
Your stare, ever knowing  
Of my increasing need.

I think of you now  
As I grow hard  
Against my thigh.  
I think of the moans  
The pleasure  
And the pain.  
And I think of the spread  
Of my cheeks  
Of you slipping between, beneath.  
I think of your groans  
As I spurt between us  
Panting, panting, complete."

His eyes strayed, at last to the page, though by memory he knew the poem was done. He sighed once more before looking up again. The attention of every person was on him. He laid the book back down, on top of the others, and waited for the first hand to be raised shakily into the air. He waited for the question. Finally it came.

She was a pretty young woman who'd look good in press photos, the type his agent would love for him to fall for. He could just see the press releases now, talking about how he had fallen for some hometown vixen while he was promoting his latest book. She spoke softly, like those kinds of girls often do, as she grilled him. "You have said before that the poem isn't about a person. Is it really true? Surely it has to be about someone."

Liam regarded her for a moment. At least she had come up with an original way to ask. "I suppose that everything comes from somewhere." He was always ready with the standard writer response, the world is my muse. "But in this case it was not inspired by a specific person." The words rolled flatly off his tongue.

"But you are gay," she stated simply.

Liam hoped that the mild surprise did not show on his face. He remembered clearly everything he had been told by his "team". Never admit to a thing. "Why would you assume that?" he questioned.  
A young man sitting next to the questioner raised an eyebrow, but it was the original addresser who responded. "The poem was clearly about two men having sex."

"Was it?" Liam asked. "Maybe I was being metaphorical. Isn't all art metaphorical?"

"That doesn't answer my question though," the young woman responded.

"I'm sorry, I must have missed the question." Liam looked out at his small audience for a moment. "I think that will be it for today. I do appreciate you all coming out today and hope to see you again." He rose from his seat and prepared to exit but none of the bodies before him moved. He stood and stared for a moment, but no one seemed pressed to change their position. "Yes?" he finally asked.

The skeptical young man from earlier stood. Liam saw the slight opening this caused but thought better of plowing through the crowd. He waited to see if the person before him would speak. Finally he did, "Everybody always talks of how this poem is the most erotic that you have ever written, the happiest, but I disagree. I think that 'Untitled' is the saddest of all your work. There isn't a doubt in my mind that there exists a man whom you wrote this poem about, but he is unknown to you, untitled. You want him but cannot say the words."

Liam sized up his opponent. He was unsure how he should respond. It took him a moment to settle upon the truth, or at least a version of the truth. "No one has ever come to that conclusion before," he said. "I won't say that you're completely off the mark either, but it isn't anyone I actually know. He and I have never even stood in the same room. That poem is nothing more than the ravings of a very horny man. Nothing more. No mystery, no intrigue. Sorry to disappoint."

The young man did not look disappointed as he moved aside. He watched Liam closely as the poet nodded once to them all before working his way out of the room.

When he gained the fresh air of the street outside Liam breathed deeply. He wanted away from that bookshop as quickly as possible. He wanted away from all of it, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialed quickly. He waited until he heard the brisk voice of the receptionist at his publisher's office. "This is Liam Payne. I need to come home early. I know that it is inconvenient, but I'm going to change my flight and should be home later on today for him to yell at. Make whatever changes that need to be made to explain away why I have chosen not to finish the last few dates of the tour." He clicked the end button the second he was done, leaving the person on the other end of the phone shocked, he was sure. He knew that he would pay for that, but he wasn't willing to stick around and go through that ordeal again and again. Besides, he had a feeling he had worse to answer for anyway.

Liam looked around him for a moment until he saw a cab idling nearby. He walked over to it. "You taking fares?" He asked the man behind the wheel. "Great. Biltmore Hotel," he added after the cabbie nodded.

Liam paid no attention to what was going past as they drove towards the rather nice hotel he had been put up in. He had to admit that his publisher was really trying. He was just ready to get home and relax in his own bed. He had been gone for too long already; it was starting to take its toll. He pulled out his phone again and began scrolling through flights until he found one leaving in only a few hours. He knew that it would cost a fortune to fly home early, and last minute, but that was just one more thing to answer for once he got back. It would be worth it in the end. The cab pulled up in front of the hotel. Liam looked up from his phone. He was glad to be going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited to fix typos.


	2. The Muse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be the last introductory chapter. I just wanted to give them both their own chapter. I'm going to try to make the charters longer from this point on. I'm going to start on the next chapter when I get done posting this.
> 
> This chapter includes a quote from "Civil Disobedience" by Henry David Thoreau.

Chapter 2: The Muse

"I heartily accept the motto, "That government is best which governs least"; and I should like to see it acted up to more rapidly and systematically. Carried out, it finally amounts to this, which also I believe— "That government is best which governs not at all"; and when men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of government which they will have." The man on the courthouse stairs recited.

A group of people were gathered at the bottom of the stairs looking up at the man before them reciting "Civil Disobedience" from memory, completely naked. An officer made his way through the crowd to address the figure. "What in the blazes are you doing?"

The young man paused for a moment and sighed. "I'm protesting, clearly." He opened his mouth to pick up where he left off but the officer cut across him again.

"Protesting what exactly?" The cop had a very no nonsense way about him, not the type to take kindly to people protesting.

"See, I have been fined, unjustly, and summoned before the court for a most unworthy cause." The young man nodded for emphasis.

The officer looked the man up and down, though it was clear he did not want to, and took a shot in the dark. "Public nudity by chance?"

The young man frowned. "It was for the sake of art. Is there no longer such a thing as free expression? Is there a law that says that beauty is no longer allowed in this world?" the naked young man countered.

The officer had known it would be one of those days when he'd woken up. "Let me get this straight," he began, "you have been fined for public nudity and refuse to pay. Do I have that right?"

"Yes," the young man replied.

"And so you have chosen to stand on the steps of the courthouse, naked, spouting off some hippie rhetoric about how the government has no right to fine you?" The officer was obviously a man who needed to have things laid out all nice and neat before he knew how to react. 

"Not quite as crude as all that, but basically, yes. I have been fined in the pursuit of art, and I refuse to pay something as foul as a fine for indecency when there was nothing indecent about what I was doing."

"But surely you understand that you cannot stand naked on the steps of the courthouse no matter how much you disagree with the reason you were fined." The cop appeared firm in his disapproval. "I'm going to have to arrest you."

The young man nodded curtly. "I assumed it would come to that."

The cop frowned. "Do you plan to...uh...protest your arrest?"

"I see no cause for that."

The officer blinked unsurely. "Name?" he asked somewhat wearily.

"Zayn Malik," the young man replied. He grabbed a coat that had been lying on the steps beside him and began to put it on. The officer watch in awe as the trenchcoat was tired shut and the artist began to make his way down the steps toward him. "Ready?" Zayn asked as he came toe to toe with the officer. The cop had nothing to respond with. Zayn led the way through the crowd to the police car parked at the curb. He opened the back door and ducked into the back. The officer looked back at the crowd and shut the door. He had just known it would be one of those days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited for typos.


	3. Payment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to first off say thank you to everyone who has read this so far. You have no idea what it means to me that you have taken the time to give my story a shot, and I absolutely love all the comments that I have gotten on it so far. As promised I am uploading a much longer chapter than the first two. I think I have a kind of format down that will help me make sure I'm writing chapters that are a decent length.
> 
> This time around I have dived into the story a little more. If you look closely, you will get to see a little flash of Niall, for those of you wondering if and when he would make an appearance. It isn't much in this chapter, but I have plans to see him again so stay tuned. And far more prominently is a certain Mr. Tomlinson who was very fortunate to get dialogue, again so sorry Niall. The only one who does not get any actually face time is Harry, but he is mentioned and will show up soon. Our two heroes have yet to meet but stay tuned
> 
> Please, please, please tell me what you think, and I will begin work on chapter four pretty much as soon as I finish typing up chapter three so that I can have it up within the next few days.

Chapter 3: Payment

It was certainly meant to be impressive. That was what Liam thought as he looked up at the building that housed the office of his publisher. The building loomed over you and made you feel small. He thought that every time he was summoned to meet his editor. They didn't usually meet up at the office like this unless it was absolutely necessary, and frankly, Liam preferred to never see the inside of this building again. There was really only two reasons why it was ever necessary for him to come to the office, Niall being extremely busy or Liam being in trouble. As he stood there, Liam feared it was the latter.

The elevator creaked its way to a stop on the fifteenth floor, and Liam stepped into the reception area, once again relieved he had survived the ride up. Not for the first time he reminded himself of his promise to take the stairs from that point on, but every time he came back enough time had passed that be managed to forget. He sighed heavily and began to make his way past the glass double doors into the waiting area for his publisher. He nodded to the receptionist and had barely sat down when the girl on the other side of the desk said, "Mr. Horan. Is waiting for you in the conference room."

Liam looked at her shocked for a moment and then rose from his seat. He walked in the direction she was pointing. The conference room, he had known that it was going to be bad; they never met in the conference room. Sure enough, the second he entered he saw a number of individuals that never came to meetings unless the sky was falling down around them all. "Hello," Liam said conversationally. The door snapped shut behind him as he entered the room. He smiled weakly and sank down into a seat close to the only exit. He searched the small crowd for the familiar face of his editor and one ally in the room, but Niall Horan was very determinedly not meeting his gaze. He sat there picking at his knuckles, not letting his eyes leave the table. Liam allowed his attention to shift to the man sitting at the head of the table.

Mr. Bishop had started the publishing company from nothing by the time he had trumped thirty. He was a real blood, sweat, and tears kind of guy who expected the same kind of dedication from every single person he worked with. He sat at the head of the table with the easy authority of a man who could not even begin to recall a time when he wouldn't have belonged there. His suit was crisp, his white hair perfectly cut and styled. Even the lines on his face seemed etched there uniformly. Liam couldn't help but be self-conscious of his own sloppy appearance and unshaven face. Every other person looked like they belonged at the table with a man like this, impeccable in every aspect. It further drove home to Liam that he didn't belong there. Luckily, he and rarely needed to be in the same room as Mr. Bishop, but he knew that nothing about this meeting would be pleasant. He decided that it was probably for the best that he just begin and get the worst of it over with. "You wished to see me, sir." Liam did all he could to keep his voice level as he spoke.

No one around the table responded. There was some nervous shifting and worried glances exchanged between them all. Liam ignored them, hoping that soon the telling off could begin. He always wished to get it over with sooner rather than later. He was left in suspense for so long that he feared his counterpart would never speak. Finally there was some relief.

Mr. Bishop shuffled some pages around in front of him until he found the one he was looking for. He extracted it from the others and held it gingerly as if it were contaminated. "You were, I believe, in the middle of a reading when you were asked to read a particular poem by a member of the audience." The man paused. "For reasons I do not understand, you thought it was a good idea and proceeded to read this work, that I am frankly unclear on how it came to be published." He shot a sharp look at Niall sitting a few seats away before continuing. "After you had finished reading...this," he flourished the page with an ugly look and continued again, "you were asked question about the subject matter of the piece. Though it is clear as to what you were speaking about. And instead of avoiding the question, as you should have done, you proceeded to admit that you fully support, condone, and believe in the subject matter in question." Mr. Bishop laid the piece of paper down gently upon the others. "How this came to be publicly known at all, I cannot take up with you personally. You do not make the finally decision about what is appropriate for release. And though it would certainly be easier for all involved, I cannot control what you chose to write about; I know this. I do, however; have complete and total control over what is said publicly both by you and through your writing. This," he pointed to the document before him, "is not acceptable. I do not condone, nor allow my writers to publicly condone, this type of behavior. If you are to continue here, then this must be understood. I will have no one associated with me publicly engaging in this type of behavior. Unfortunately, in this day and age, I cannot tell you how you must live your 'personal' life, but let me be clear, it will take place 100% behind closed doors. I will not allow so much as a rumor to reach my ears that suggests that a single person suspects what you do behind closed doors. From this point forward, everything you submit will come directly to me. I will have supreme veto power as to what is and is not appropriate material for you to have published under your name, and more importantly under my name. You will never again mention this incident, and you will follow the party line that the PR department plans to set out for you in order to fix this mess. You will never read this piece again; if asked to read it, you will play deaf. It will be removed from any further publications of the collection it appears in. We will also require that you attend all necessary functions with a date. We will provide you with a list of suitable candidates that we have vetted, and as long as you toe the party line, you will be allowed to chose one of them to appear on your arm. You will commit fully to this publicly in any way we require. You will be young, in love, and most importantly of all, normal. Do you have any questions?"

Liam was almost more shocked by the sudden end of the monologue than by its content. It took him a moment before he realized that he had the chance to speak. "And what if I do not wish to stay under those conditions?" he finally asked. It came out suddenly before he had a chance to think it through. Out of the corner of his eye Liam saw Niall shift uncomfortably but ignored him. He forced all of his attention toward the man on the other side of the table.

If Mr. Bishop was surprised by the question he did not show it. "You seem to have misunderstood Mr. Payne; the choice is not yours to make. You can stay and fulfill your contract, or you can leave this office today knowing that we will be in touch to collect the sum you will owe us for breaking your contract. That is the only choice left to you. Regardless, I will collect my payment for the shame you have brought upon my good name with your deviant behavior. Do you have any other questions? Ones of which the answer is not obvious." Liam shook his head seething. "Good," Mr. Bishop responded, "you may go for now. I expect to have new material to review within the month. Hopefully you have something suitable to present by them. We wil be in contact when we have fully prepared a plan of action to rectify your mistake."

Though he wished to argue, Liam rose from his seat and left the room. He knew in that moment that he would need to play his hand very carefully. At the moment he just didn't know how.

***

Zayn slid into the passenger's seat with a sigh of relief. "What took you so long?" he asked.

Louis scoffed as he pulled away from the curb. "You're welcome," he responded. His voice dripped irritability. "And I was busy," he added after a moment. Zayn took in his appaearace pointedly, sweats and an old t-shirt but chose not to comment. Louis rolled his eyes as he pulled into traffic.

They were silent for a few minutes before the subject was finally broached. "So," Louis began, "you're going to be able to pay me back, right? I wouldn't ask if things weren't so tight right now. And bail isn't cheap."

"Yeah, you would know," Zayn scoffed.

Louis glared at him for a moment. "I'm serious mate! I need you to pay me back. That was my fucking rent money that I just shelled out to keep you from being some dude's prison bitch, and I would rather not be homeless because of it."

Zayn watched as Louis dove in and out of traffic, speeding like a maniac, like always. "I thought things were going good with the baker." He tried to keep the scorn out of his voice, but even to his ears it was audible beneath the surface. "I thought that he was going to more in or some shit, help with the bills."

Louis gripped the wheel tightly. "First off, he has a name, Harry, and second, that's real romantic, huh, hey you want to share the rent so that I can afford food every other month! I'm not you, shacking up with every warm body that comes along until you get bored of them and throw them out. Not exactly how I imagined settling down ya know."

Zayn nodded though Louis's eyes were glued to the road. They'd been friends pretty much since the second they both landed in London though neither of them could quite remember when or where they had met, but both men knew that theirs was a friendship not easily severed, even though they tended to fight a lot, "falling out" every other week. They always ended up back together though. The primary source of conflict was hard to pin down too. The latest issue was easier, the baker; he was the main problem of late. Coming in and convincing Louid that there was more to life than going out every night, sleeping until well past noon, and wasting the day playing video games. Constantly trying to convince Louis he needed a "real job" or some shit, like testing video games wasn't a dream come true for every 20 something male on the planet. Zayn frowned to himself. He knew that if the baker, as Zayn insisted on calling him in his head, found out that Louis had had to bail him out again, there would be even more drama. Seriously. How could someone younger than him even think of having their shit together? It just wasn't natural! Zayn couldn't understand him. He looked at Louis for a moment out of the corner of his eye before finally speaking. "It might take me a couple of days, but I have a way to get you the money."

Louis swerved a little as he turned to look at Zayn. "What? You said on the phone you had it! You said you just needed me to pay real quick, and then once you got out you could get me the money."

"And I can," Zayn protested. "I just don't currently have all of it right now."

"And how much would you say that you do currently have?" Louis glared at him.

Zayn gnawed on his lower lip. "Half," he said.

"Half?"

"Well, slightly less than half." Zayn paused for a moment. "Okay, about half...of half."

Louis sighed heavily as he took the turn into their apartment complex. He parked around back like he usually did and bolted out of the car the second it had stopped. Zayn had to rush to squeeze out behind him before the automatic locks reengaged. Louis had already rounded around the corner before Zayn caught up with him. "But like I said," Zayn called as Louis hustled his way through the door into the lobby and headed for the elevator, "I have a way to get the money."

Louis froze in his tracks and spun around. "I don't want to hear it; I don't. Whatever harebrained scheme you've come up with this time, just keep it to yourself. I'm done. I can't even begin to remember why I listen to you in the first place! Why I believe in you I'll never know! You are the most irresponsible person that I know, and that is including me. You have no clue how your actions affect other people. You couldn't have just paid the fine like a normal person?"

"I told you, it was all for a piece I was working on," Zayn started to explain.

Louis raised a hand to silence him. "You stood naked on a street corner and allowed women to spray paint your body. How is that art?"

"It was called 'My Body is a Canvas'," Zayn countered.

Louis shook his head. "I think it's great that you're willing to suffer for your art and all that, but this time the person suffering for it is me!" Before Zayn could open his mouth to say anymore, Louis had turned back around and stormed off. Zayn watched him go for a moment and considered following but in the end thought better of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited for typos.


	4. The Baker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was able to get this chapter finished sooner than expected and thought I'd go ahead and get it out there for you guys to read. Hopefully you guys like it. Things took a bit of a turn at the end, but it will all play into the story.

Chapter 4: The Baker

There had to be some sort of limit to the punishment he was allowed to receive. Zayn had paid Louis back, and promptly too, so he had no clue why he was still having to answer for his part in their latest fight. Okay, he could understand Louis being upset that he had exaggerated a little, fine a lot, about having the money at hand, but surely what mattered in the end was that Louis got the money. He paid his rent, on time even, and wasn't evicted. And yet, here Zayn was still paying back a debt no longer owed. It was too much. He looked at the one unpainted wall with a sense of dread. It was all too much. He looked over at the man standing beside him. "Louis did tell you that I'm not that kind of painter, right?" He was sure that this had to be some sort of joke. What had happened to whoever had done the other walls?

The man standing beside him scowled heavily. "I know nothing about painters of any type. The boss says you come and paint, I assume you're the right type for the job, end of story. And I don't know any Louis as far as I can recall." The man pushed up the sleeves of his work shirt. "I guess I'll leave you. If you need to put up a base coat, there's white paint over there. Rollers and all that is over there too." He pointed to a corner a couple of feet away where a number of painting supplies stood. "Floor goes in late next week, should give you enough time to put up the mural I reckon."

Zayn gave him a puzzled looked. "What mural?" he asked.

The construction worker shrugged. "The boss just said to let you in, show you the paint supplies, and then leave. That's all I know, that some artist was coming today, I'm guessing you by your prompt appearance, to do some sort of mural. I was told leave you some base coat if needed. That's all I know. You knew nothing about this?"

Zayn shook his head. "My friend Louis told me that he needed me to do a favor for his boyfriend. I got here, discovered you, and found out that I'm apparently supposed to be painting some wall." Zayn glared at the wall in question. "I'm guessing the baker's idea of a joke."

"So you're not the artist?" The construction worker replied. Zayn ran his eyes across the man's chest, found a patched sewn there with the name Mike on it.

"I'm an artist. I don't necessarily paint as such. Less canvas work than is usual." Mike raised a questing brow. "I'm a street artist," Zayn explained, "spray paint, performance pieces."

Mike was saved the necessity of responding by the creak of the back door. Shuffling footsteps announced the presence of someone else in the nearly remodeled space, the sudden crash in the distance told Zayn exactly who those steps belonged to. He closed his eyes briefly, preparing himself for what was sure to be pure torture. By the time he had opened his eyes another man stood in their midst. Zayn took in his artfully ripped skinny jeans and hopefully ironic Hawaiian shirt, mostly covered up by a flour covered apron tied around his waist. His curly hair was long, but it was hard to tell that it usually hung down close to his shoulders with it pulled up in a messy bun. The man smiled widely upon discovering he held Zayn's attention. The smile was not returned. "Sorry I'm late," the baker said. He looked from Zayn to the other man. "Hi. I'm Harry." He held out a hand to the construction worker. Zayn looked on as they shook briefly.

He waited a few second before he decided to address the new arrival. "Mike here was telling me all about how you and Louis have decided that I'm cheap labor." He glared at the curly haired man.

Harry turned back to Zayn looking a little wounded. "Maybe," he said, "we were trying to help you out. You ever think that? Maybe I was being nice. My boss wants to convert this space into a night club since we don't usually have a lot of business at night anyway and wanted to do a mural on one of the walls. I thought that it would look cool if you did it. Convinced my boss that it would set us apart and everything, but if you want to continue to act like a jackass, have at it. Be a petulant starving artist for the rest of your days for all I care. Maybe you can continue with your current quest to show all of London your junk, and maybe if you're lucky you'll make just barely more than your mounting public indecency fines. At least you wouldn't have to risk getting fat and ruining your golden ticket by being able to afford food. Harry waved a hand up and down Zayn's body. Or you could act like an adult for once and do this, collect a fat check, and maybe, just maybe, we could even be friends." Zayn raised an eyebrow. Harry sighed heavily. "You're Louis's best friend. He complains about you daily, but you're his best friend regardless. Now, I like like Louis, and want to be a part of his life, even if it means being friends with you. What do you say?"

Zayn sighed heavily. He looked at the blank wall again. "I can do anything?" He asked.

"Anything," Harry agreed. Zayn sighed again but nodded.

***

Liam sipped on his tea and waited for Niall to say something. They had met up at the bakery ten minutes before, and besides ordering, Niall hadn't said a word. "You ever going to talk?" Liam finally asked.

Niall cleared his throat. "I want you to understand that I didn't have anything to do with what happened." Liam looked skeptical. "I'm just a junior editor. I was just as shocked when they let me work on my own at all as you were to be paired with me, and I loved getting to help bring your ideas to the world. I just should have known that maybe Mr. Bishop would take that particular poem the wrong way."

Liam set his cup back on the table. "You know I'm not mad at you," he said.

"Good." Liam could see how much Niall visibly relaxed. "I have convinced Mr. Bishop to let me be your editor still. I'm not sure how since I was pretty certain I was going to get fired, but I did manage it. If you still want me, that is. He'll still have final say, but at least you'll have someone in your corner who actually cares about what you have to say. Even if I don't do much other than help figure out the order your poems should be listed it." Niall shot Liam a shy, hopeful smile.

Liam grinned back. "Of course I still want you to be my editor," he said. "To be honest, there isn't a whole lot to edit at the moment. Finding material to write about this is "appropriate" is a lot harder than I...than I..." He trailed off suddenly looking over Niall's head.

Niall looked puzzled for a moment and then followed Liam's eye line. A young man stood across from where the pair of them were seated. He had obviously just come out from the behind the curtain tacked up next to the sign proclaiming that hidden from view was a construction zone. Frowning he took in the man for a moment, noticing that he had a number of visible tattoos. The top of his hair was obviously dyed, a direct contrast to the black of his beard. A gas mask swung from around his neck, and the clothes he wore appeared covered in some type of paint. Niall turned back around to discover that Liam hadn't moved his eyes once from where he sat staring moments before. "I'm assuming by the look on your face he's attractive," Niall commented.

For the first time since the young man's sudden appearance Liam looked back to his friend sitting across from him. "He's 'Untitled'," he said.

"He's untitled? What does that mean? He inspires you? You think he's hot? I don't know what that means. Is "untitled" some sort of gay code I don't know or something?" Niall looked on either side of them suddenly to ensure their neighbors weren't paying attention.

Liam frowned. "No. I mean he is 'Untitled'. He's the one the poem is about."

Niall turned around again suddenly to find that the man had disappeared. He scanned the crowd until he had found him again, standing at the counter. He was talking to a curly haired young man on the other side of the glass bakery display. They obviously knew each other, but they were too far away for Niall to hear anything they were saying. He turned backed to Liam. "I thought you said that he wasn't real. Like you made him up or something."

Liam rolled his eyes. "I said I didn't know him, not that he wasn't real." He paused for a moment, his eyes also going to where the man in question stood. "He's a performance artist. I saw this piece he did in the park. He painted his naked body to look like a mime costume and then stood behind that one that's always in the park and copied all the moves he made. It was hilarious because the actual mime would get more and more annoyed every time we laughed." Niall looked on blankly. "Maybe it was funnier at the time."

Niall nodded, obviously unsure what else to do and followed Liam's eye line again. "Right." He shook his head to himself. "You ready to get out of here?"

Liam frowned and pulled his eyes away from where they had travelled to the artist's ass as he leaned into the counter. "I suppose. I just wonder what he's doing here. Maybe it has something to do with the remodeling upstairs. What could the gas mask be for?"

Niall rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm sure he is really hot or whatever, but for all you know, he might like the ladies even more than me. It's better you just stay away, put him from your mind if possible. And anyway, even if you knew for sure that he would like to..." he paused for a second, obviously concerned about what might be overheard, "take a trip around your lollipop, you have to pretend that you don't feel the same."

Liam snorted loudly. "Take a trip around your lollipop? Who talks like that? You're certain you like the ladies?"

Niall glared at him. "Very certain, thank you very much. But my point remains that you can't go around looking at some dude's ass in public!" He rose from his seat aburptly. "I'll see you in the office to go over some new material soon, I'm sure." His eyes strained back to the pair at the counter. "Just be less explicit for both our sakes. And that guy behind the counter is probably his boyfriend or something." He turned on his heel and exited before Liam could respond.

Liam watched him go as his tea sat in front of him getting cold. He thought about the situation he had managed to get himself in and wondered how he was going to get out of it. They had yet to give him the list of suitable women for him to date, but he knew that soon there would be someone sitting across from him in the seat newly vacated by his one real friend in the city. Someone he wouldn't know or care about. Someone he would be forced to say he loved. And meanwhile, there was someone that he was far more likely to potentially love who probably would end up with someone else, if he wasn't already, while Liam was sitting feet away pretending. He frowned to himself and glanced over towards the counter again. The artist was moving again, back towards the curtain. Liam followed his progress with his eyes, watched him disappear from sight. His eyes wandered back to the counter as the curly haired man went back into the kitchen. Acting on impulse, Liam darted out of his seat and headed for the curtain across the room. If anyone noticed, they said nothing as he pulled it aside and reveled a staircase. With one last look behind him to make sure none of the employees were paying attention Liam stepped onto the bottommost stair and began making his way upstairs.

The door at the top of the staircase stood ajar and the fumes hit Liam like a freight train, but he kept going. He squeezed into what was obviously a kitchen and wound his way past the boxes piled everywhere. He pushed his way through the swinging door to find himself standing almost directly behind his prey with only the space of the room separating them. He watched as the other man slowly applied more spray paint to the wall. Liam walked closer to him. He had gotten about halfway across the room when the can the other was using obviously ran out of paint. Liam froze as the other tossed the empty can into a box lying open on his left and turned. His eyes widened slightly above the mask covering half his face. Liam didn't know what to do as the young man across from him reached up and lowered the gas mask. "You lost?" he asked.

Liam wasn't sure that he could speak. He felt his legs carrying him across the room to where the other man stood. Ignoring the look of mild shock on his face, Liam pushed him against the wall, not even thinking about the wet paint. He looked the artist over for a second. This close up he could see that the other man had his nose pierced; he hadn't noticed that the day in the park. Liam half opened his mouth as if to speak but no sound came out. "Have we met before?" the artist asked.

Liam shook his head. Before the other man could speak again he lowered himself to the floor. His fingers fumbled slightly as he popped the button on the other man's jeans. His mind raced as he pulled down the zipper, but he pushed the thoughts away. He waited for a moment for the other man to say something or move away. When nothing happened Liam looked up at him to find the artist looking down at him curiously. Not taking his eyes off of him, Liam reached into the other man's pants and pulled out his half hard cock. He pulled his eyes away then to take in the member lying in his hand. Liam stroked it gently for a moment, feeling it harden in his hand, before leaning forward and easing the tip between his lips.

He sucked softly, easing down slowly. It felt heavy in his tongue as he felt his lips touch his knuckles stroking the parts that didn't fit in his mouth. He breathed deeply through his nose as he began to bob slowly up and down, his hand stroking the parts his mouth had yet to reach. There was a quiet groan above him, and he felt fingers entwining in his hair.

Liam eased back until with a pop the dick slid from between his lips. He ran his tongue around the head, collecting the precome that was gathering around the slit. The grip in his hair tightened as he ran his tongue from the tip to the base and back again. He let his teeth nip lightly at the crown. He issued a sharp gasp as his hair was yanked in return.

Liam took the head back between his lips and sucked hard. The moans coming from the man above him spurned him on. He let the other man's cock slide further and further into his mouth. He willed his muscles to relax and breathed deeply just before he felt the tip hit the back of his throat. He swallowed hard. A sharp intake of breath from the other man was followed by an even stronger yank as the fingers twisted further into Liam's hair. He swallowed again. The man above him was almost too much. Liam eased off a little only to slam right back down again. He repeated the motion again, fucking his mouth onto the artist's cock, swallowing on each descent. "Oh fuck," the other man groaned.

Liam sped up, reaching out and cupping the other man's balls gently. A soft moan was the only response. He massaged them in the palm of his hand while he continued to swallow around the head over and over. "Oh." He heard the moan come above him. The other man jerked suddenly, and Liam felt warm come seep into his throat. He swallowed greedily until the jerking against his tongue stopped.

The fingers combed through his hair softly as Liam eased off the softening cock. He looked up at the other man. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone look so content before. He slowly rose from where he'd been on his knees until they were standing face to face. "I'm Zayn, by the way," the other man said. Liam smiled softly and then walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited for typos.


	5. The Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologize to all my fellow Zayn girls and guys out there for the fact that yet again Liam gets a bit more screen time in this chapter. It just felt necessary to moving the story forward. This is a longer chapter than the others, so hopefully that makes up for the lack of sufficient screen time for our little Zaynie. Since I was unable to update all last week, I am going to try to get chapter six up today as well, and Zayn is the primary in that one. Hopefully that will redeem me a little in your eyes. But this is also the first chapter where all five of them make an appearance, and have dialogue, so I feel like I'm at least making a little progress. Hopefully you guys are still enjoying this, and I promise that the end of chapter four will not be the end of the smut.
> 
> As usual, feel free to leave all questions, comments, and complaints in the comment section below. I can't wait to hear your feedback.

Chapter 5: The Interview

Liam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was the seventh "date" he'd been on in three days. He'd done breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and now he thought that he was done. She was the one, if only so he didn't have to go on another one of these ridiculous interviews. Still, he felt like he was right to give her a second run through. The problem was that he was unsure how exactly he was supposed to ask this girl he barely knew if she'd be willing to be his fake girlfriend. They just didn't teach things like that in school. This had been his primary worry ever since he had been called by Niall to tell him that he had a "date" that afternoon days before. Now here he sat, sure he'd found the one. He wasn't even sure what they were supposed to do if they spent time together again. He looked at her uncomfortably. He knew that eventually he was going to have to take her somewhere other than the bakery they had met in twice now. Eventually they would have to venture out into the real world. "So," he said for want of anything else to actually say. She nodded encouragingly. Liam wondered why she couldn't make these things easier, say the words for him. He finally decided to be blunt. "Look," he said, "I think we should date." She raised an eyebrow. "I'm assuming that they told you the situation. We wouldn't have to do more than be seen together from time to time, I'm sure. I think we might even manage to get along in time." He waited a long time for her to speak.

The young woman across from him was pretty, he supposed, in a girl next door kind of way, exactly the kind of girl he imagined they'd want him seen with. It was perfectly believable that a girl like that might like him. She was nothing like the person he imagined he'd want to be seen with, but in a pinch she would have to do. Mr. Bishop had already made it clear he had no choice. He watched as the woman across from him eyed him curiously; he wished he could remember her name. "You want to date me?"

Liam swallowed hard and shifted in his seat. "Yes."

The young woman looked skeptical again. "To what extent?" Liam must have looked confused because she elaborated. "Are we talking a few select public appearance or many? Or will there need to be any family time involved? These are all questions that need to be answered before we can move forward."

Liam opened his mouth in shock. "Family time?"

"Some people think it sells the relationship more. It's a matter of profile really, how closely you're being watched. You're some sort of writer, correct? Probably not necessary to take things to that level immediately. May I ask what made you decide to go this route?"

Liam worried his lip. "Only if you'd tell me. Why would you choose to spend your limited free time pretending to be with someone?"

The young woman across from him looked surprised. "You assume that this is my free time; this is my job. I'm good at it. I make good money doing it, and that's enough for me. I see no reason to walk away from that. Different situations call for different packages, more or less money depending on what's required. Sometimes I am a date for an important function when the person involved can't be seen alone; sometimes I am required to pose as a girlfriend for a time. What about you?"

"That matters?" Liam asked.

"Yes. Everything matters. The more I know will help me to sell this, the easier that it will be to make our relationship look real."

Liam paused fora moment. "It's what my publisher wants. He doesn't want it known that I like men."

"Boyfriend?"

"No," he replied, "no boyfriend."

The young woman nodded. "As far as the world knows my name is Emma Wells. I will be your girlfriend, if that is what you need. In exchange I have some ground rules. The first, no sex, doesn't really apply to you as long as you really are gay, but I stated it anyway for the record. Second rule, I must be kept apprised of any major changes in your life. You say right now there isn't a boyfriend, if that changes I need to know. Third, I don't like surprises. I need to know the plan of action before it rolls out, any changes in the story need to be run by me. If you throw any curve balls this all ends. Fourth, you answer any questions that I ask fully and truthfully. If I don't know the answers, everything could fall apart. Do you have any questions?"

Liam thought for a moment. "What about the things that I need to know?"

"Before we ever go live you will know everything you need to know about the me you are dating. A lot of it will depend on you; we'll have to craft a story about how we needed up together, something believable to those people who know you well. Now, is there anything that I need to know? Anyone that I need to know about?" Liam shot her a confused look. "Like the guy on the other side of the counter who keeps clocking the two of us."

Liam turned to his left to see the curly haired young man he knew was the head baker determinedly looking everywhere but in the direction of their table. It was clear that be bad been looking at them only moments before. He was always watching Liam these days, though he couldn't figure out why. Liam looked back to his companion. "I come here a lot; he works here, the primary baker, I think. But I'm not sure of his name."

Emma shot a look back to the counter. "I take it be likes you, by all the staring. You're positive that you don't know him? He won't be a problem?"

"Never met him before."

Emma opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a shadow next to their table. The pair of them looked up to find the very subject of their conversation standing over them . "Hello," he said, "I'm Harry. I just came over to give you this." He held out a flyer to Liam. "We have been doing some work upstairs, as you probably noticed by all the noise. Next Friday we are opening up a club and have been handing these out to our regulars. Hopefully you will be able to swing by."

Liam couldn't help but notice that not once during this speech had Harry looked at the woman sitting at the table. He reached out and grabbed the paper still being held out to him. He looked over the flyer for a moment, and then looked up again to find that Harry was gone. Liam showed to flyer to Emma. "It looks like you have your first job then. Will next Friday be a problem?"

Emma seemed to think for a moment. "Shouldn't be. We could sell that we're a new couple pretty well, don't know that much about each other yet, still learning."

Liam nodded and looked over the flyer again. There was something familiar about the artwork, but he knew it was better if he didn't think about it. He needed to be committed to Emma, to their fake relationship, if all of this was going to go off without a hitch. He couldn't let himself get caught up thinking about him. It wouldn't end well, it never did.

***

Harry took the stairs two at a time. He pushed his way through the back door and followed the sound of the voices in the distance. He made his way through the kitchen and through the swinging door into the main room. Plastic covered every inch of the floor to eliminate the chance of paint stains. Two men were in the room, one sitting on a crate watching the other paint. Harry looked between them anxiously. "So Zayn, do you think you're almost done?" he asked.

Zayn turned around to look at the newcomer. He chuckled. "You and the boss concerned that I'm going to be painting in between the dancing bodies come opening night?"

"They did already give you an extension to complete your new masterpiece," Louis pointed out.

Zayn turned back to the wall without comment and began to paint once more. Harry stepped a little closer to the wall to look at the progress. "I thought that you didn't ever use regular paint," he commented.

Zayn shrugged. "I thought it blended well with the scene I had in mind. And to alleviate your fears, I'm nearly done, should only be a few more hours."

"Good," Harry replied, "because I invited your boyfriend."

The brush stopped aburptly. Louis shot a confused look between the two of them that Zayn didn't see. "Boyfriend?" he questioned.

Zayn refused to turn around. He could practically feel the looks being exchanged behind him. He let them think he was unconcerned by this development as he continued putting the finishing touches on the mural. Inside his mind raced. He knew he never should have told Harry, was never truly sure why he had. He should have known the curly haired bastard would do something like this! Now HE was coming, going to see what see what Zayn had done.

Louis was still sitting behind him, still questioning what was going on. "He has a boyfriend?" he asked again. "How come I didn't know?"

Zayn turned around in time to see Harry shrug. "Don't feel bad, he only told me because I saw them and wouldn't let up until he told me."

Louis shot Zayn a questioning look. "Ignore him," Zayn tried to convince him. "It was nothing."

"Nothing?" Harry laughed. "I came up here, right, to see how the mural was coming and walk in on some guy sucking your dick! And to you that is nothing?"

Louis laughed, "But don't you see, Harold, it was nothing to him! I'm surprised that was the only time you walked in on him with some boy between his legs."

"Hey now!" Zayn replied indignant. "You don't exactly have a spotless record yourself. Tell me again how you two met?"

Harry looked between the pair of them briefly before going on. "But that's the thing. I come up here, see this little scene, and then next time I come up the whole wall is white once more and his latest masterpiece has begun." He looked at the nearly finished mural again. "The subject of which leaves nothing to the imagination. And the culprit has come back every day since then."

"Always with a woman," Zayn added pointedly.

Harry ignored him. "So today I invited him to the opening."

Louis shot his boyfriend a questioning look before turning to focus on his best friend. "I'm lost," he said.

Zayn sighed heavily and sank onto a crate sitting near the wall. "I don't know who he is, okay. I was up here working one day and nearly out of paint, so I went down to tell Harry that I would need more. I assume that he was downstairs, the guy, because he followed me up. I turned around and there he was; he pushed me against the wall. Your boyfriend here knows the rest. Well, a couple of days later he shows up here with a woman early in the morning and returns later that day with another."

"He's been here six or seven times now, always with a different girl," Harry added.

Zayn shot him a look that Louis couldn't read. "Harry's been spying on him for me," he added after a moment. "I keep telling him that he's wasting his time though. Clearly this guy is in the closest, in which case I'm not interested."

"Which is why you're painting a picture of him sucking your dick?" Louis questioned.

"I told you, it's a mosaic of every day life, stop getting hung up on one of the images." It was obvious that this was not the first time Zayn had given this speech. "The point is that every day he shows up with a different girl, clearly making a show of how he is your everyday red blooded heterosexual male despite the fact that he deep throated my cock so well he's clearly done it before."

"This one wasn't new," Harry said, looking at Zayn with a frown. "He was back with the third girl he showed up with. I imagine he'll bring her to the opening too; he was showing her the flyer as I came up here."

Zayn sighed heavily and stood again. "I don't care. I'm sure he'll be very happy with her."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Louis knew from his friend's tone that the subject was closed. "Why don't we let him finish?" Louis said. "Your boss has been complaining that he isn't done yet anyway. This way we eliminate the distraction. Plus, I'm starving. What is the point of dating a baker if I go hungry all the time?" He stood and held his hand out to Harry.

The two men left the room, to talk about him, Zayn was sure. He lifted the brush to continue but found suddenly that he didn't feel much like painting.

***

She was good, that much Liam was sure of. Emma had insisted that they bring Niall on board with their planning, it made sense when he thought about it. Niall knew Liam well but also knew the situation. He would be the perfect person to help them craft a believable story about how they met and ended up as a couple. So there they were, inside Liam's flat brainstorming. Well, Liam and Emma were brainstorming while Niall read through a notebook full of half finished poems that Liam had accidentally left sitting on the coffee table. "I don't understand the one about the water," he said suddenly, cutting off the conversation between the couple.

Liam rolled his eyes. "Can you focus for a moment?"

"I just don't understand why anyone would write a poem about boiling water," Niall responded.

"It's not literal," Liam snapped. He grabbed the notebook out of Niall's hands and threw it onto the couch beside him. "Now can we focus on the task at hand? As I was saying, I'm not sure that this is going to work."

"We will make it work," Emma replied. "You took all of us to the bakery?"

Liam nodded. "I wasn't really trying very hard to go forward with the plan, no offense. I didn't think there would be anyone I'd need to convince the world I loved, so I didn't consider that it might look odd me showing up with all these different women back to back right before I announced to the world I was dating one of them."

The woman waved it off. "We can find a way around it. You swear that it had nothing to do with that baker who invited you to this party?"

"What baker?" Niall asked.

Liam ignored him. "I already told you that that was the first time he and I had ever spoken. I mean, over the years he may have taken my order, but other than that, I don't even know him."

"And he was staring at you intently pretty much the entire time, both times, we were there."

Niall cut in before Liam could speak. "He took you to a bakery? Which one? Did it have tables where people could sit down? A curtain tacked up in the wall? Loud noises coming from upstairs sometimes?"

Emma looked away from Liam for the first time, frowning. "Why? Is there something going on between him and the baker? I was very clear that I needed to know if he had a boyfriend and would not tolerate lies."

Niall shook his head; he almost looked angry. "I know nothing about a baker other than that they know each other. He was the only one you saw?"

Emma looked back at Liam for a moment. The look on her face told him everything that he needed go know about where this conversation was headed. "You said," she began in a mock calm tone, "that there wasn't anyone, that you didn't know this baker."

"And there isn't," he assured her, "not really." She raised a threatening eyebrow. "I had a crush on this artist that was painting upstairs, that's all. He and the baker clearly know each other because we saw them talking once." He indicated himself and Niall.

"Had a crush on him?" Nial questioned.

Liam ignored him again. "But that isn't why I go there, for the record. I've been going to that bakery since I moved to London; they have great coffee. Plus, the new baker is amazing, his food I mean. The artist is new."

Emma looked back at Niall. "And this means something to you, this artist?"

Niall nodded. "He's the reason for all this. Liam saw him once and fancied himself in love or something, wrote a poem about wanting to get familiar with various parts of his anatomy. The publisher was not a fan."

"But they've never been an item?"

"Never, not as far as I can tell," he responded. He saw Liam's uncomfortable shift out of the corner of his eye. He shot his friend a confused look.

"We may have met," Liam responded, determinedly not looking at either of them. "The day before you arranged for me to meet the first. After you left the bakery that day I followed him back upstairs."

Niall waited a long moment for Liam to elaborate. "And?" he finally prompted.

Liam shifted on the couch again. It was clear that he was nervous. "I may have..." he waved his hand vaguely, "sucked his dick."

A long silence followed this statement. It was Niall who broke it. "You did what?"

"It just happened!" Liam protested.

Emma raised her hand to silence Niall's retort. "I don't want to know how. I just need to know that this won't be a problem."

"I haven't seen him since then; I'm not even sure when that would be possible since I have spent pretty much every waking moment working, either at finding a girlfriend or writing."

"He'll be at this party?" she asked.

Liam shrugged. "Don't know, maybe. It looked like he was painting some sort of mural when I was there. Might be that he's there when it's revealed to the world. Does that mean we can't go?"

Emma looked at Niall for a moment. Despite the sour look on his face she said, "I don't see why not. I'm guessing the baker knows what happened, wouldn't be surprising if they know each other like you say, or else he wouldn't have been staring at you continually like that. Might seem off if you don't go since you were most likely invited for that reason. But if you see this artist again, I need to know."

It wasn't hard for Liam to nod his agreement. Anything that might let him see Zayn again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited for typos.


	6. Next Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, I have managed to put the finishing touches on chapter six so that I could post it. It's kind of short though, sorry. But hopefully you guys still like it.

Chapter 6: Next Friday

Zayn was good at acting unconcerned. He had been perfecting it his entire life, but that night he found it harder and harder to resist the urge to do more than search casually for the culprit of his growing frustration. He was sure that he had seen him earlier, but Zayn was probably wrong. It didn't matter anyway, he was decided to steer clear of temptation. And yet, every time he moved around the room, he couldn't help but scan his immediate area for the man who had been occupying his thoughts for almost two weeks.

Zayn turned to see Harry and Louis making a scene in the middle of the dance floor, still fairly innocent, but he had a feeling they were moving towards some of the other parties in the dark room. The small crowd around them, blatantly watching the couple grind obscenely seemed to sense the same thing. Zayn thought it better to move forward while everybody remained clothed. There were some things that he didn't feel he needed to know about Harry and Louis.

Zayn wound his way through the dancing bodies, many of them in various states of undress, determined to find the bar and take the edge off. It was then that he found him. The brown haired man stood a little ways away with a woman who looked far from happy. Zayn couldn't help but laugh a little to himself. Harry had been right, he had brought her here. The man couldn't be faulted, he didn't know what kind of place this was. Zayn watched from afar as the pair visibly argued, probably about leaving, and the man walked off in the direction of the bathroom. Zayn waited a moment before he decided to follow.

The corridor that led to the bathroom was empty, thankfully. Zayn had lost sight of his prey, but there wasn't anywhere else for him to go. The bathroom door stood just ahead of him. Zayn pushed it open and entered. The man stood just ahead of him, obviously peeing, but there wasn't a soul in there aside from them. Zayn waited until the man he'd followed turned the sink on to reach behind him and lock the door. It was then that he spoke. "Harry had said that he invited you, but I wasn't sure that you would show." Zayn had spoken softly, but he was sure the other man had heard him. "Don't get me wrong," he continued, "I'm glad you came. I reckon that I owe you after all, and here you are, whoever you are. Maybe this time you'll tell me your name."

The other man shut the water off and made a big production of drying his hands. "Liam," he said after a moment. He turned around to face the artist, the paper towel he was using falling to the floor.

"Leeyum," Zayn sounded out the name. He stepped closer. "It's nice to meet you Liam. Though, I guess in a way, we have already met." His eyes trailed over the lips he had imagined many times over the last couple of weeks. He could practically feel them wrapping around him again.

Liam nodded. He stepped a little to the side of the sinks, possibly trying to make an escape, but Zayn moved with him, boxing him in. "How have you been?" he asked conversationally.

Zayn raised an eyebrow. "You mean since you used that pretty little mouth of yours to do things I wasn't sure were possible?"

Liam felt his back hit the wall behind him. Zayn stood only inches away from him. "About that..." he began.

"And then," Zayn continued like Liam hadn't spoken, "you show up here with that girl. I saw her; she doesn't look like she's enjoying the show."

Liam nodded as Zayn inched a little closer. "We didn't know what this place was or else she wouldn't have wanted to come."

"Would you have wanted to come?" Zayn asked. He was so close now that he could feel Liam's breath on his face. "Did you enjoy the show? All those sweaty, half naked bodies pressed together. Did you have fun?" Zayn reached out and ran his hand up the inside of Liam's thigh. "It feels like you had fun."

Liam tried to pull away but there was nothing but solid wall behind him. "What are you doing?" he asked as the other man's palm rubbed him gently through his jeans.

Zayn leaned closer, whispering in Liam's ear, "I told you, I felt like I should return the favor. You were so nice to help me out, I figured I should do the same. I never would have finished the mural without you, and then here you were, with her, obviously wanting attention." He paused for a moment. "You know I felt so bad that day when I lost control and came in your mouth. I should have warned you." He rubbed harder on the hard cock of the man pressed against him. "But it felt so good coming all down your throat, like heaven when you swallowed me. I couldn't resist, couldn't stop thinking about it. The way it felt when your lips wrapped around me." Liam shuddered against him. "I couldn't stop imagining it. And putting my cock other places. I bet you would let me, even want me to put my cock other places. Would you like that?"

Liam groaned softly. He could feel the precome leaking into this thigh as Zayn rubbed and stroked him harder. "Zayn," he managed to get out. His voice refused to go any further though.

"I bet you would," Zayn whispered against his skin. "I know I'd like that. You have no idea how much I want to take my tongue and lick you open until you were begging for it." Liam moaned. "I bet you'd taste amazing."

"You should stop," Liam whispered as he bucked into Zayn's hand.

"Is that what you want, for me to stop? You don't feel like you want me to stop. You feel like you want me to drop down on my knees and take you between my lips..." Zayn felt him spasm under his palm. Liam jerked against him.

Liam groaned loudly. The come ran down his legs as he lost control in a way he hadn't done since his teens. He panted as his head hit the wall, his eyes closing, contented. He tried to catch his breath. Zayn leaned in again. "Tell your girlfriend I say hi," he whispered in Liam's ear. "You really shouldn't bring her with you next time. I don't think she'd like it much to watch me spread you open in front of everyone and made you moan."

Liam felt the weight move off of him. He opened his eyes to find that Zayn was completely gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited for typos.


	7. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't much to this chapter other than setting up the ones that are to come. My plan is to spend the weekend writing and getting the story up and running. Hopefully in the next few days things we have come together.

Chapter 7: The Morning After

Liam sat at the kitchen table listening to Emma going on and on about the many reasons they never should have gone to the club. Words like reckless and dangerous filtered in every few minutes. He was unable to focus on her speech though. He couldn't stop thinking about the events in the bathroom the night before. What he wouldn't give to be back there now, even with the embarrassment of coming in his pants like a thirteen year old boy. He wanted more than he could say to see Zayn again, but he knew that it wasn't a very good idea. He needed to remember the rules, no one could know that he was gay. Zayn could ruin things for him. Liam had worked too hard to throw it all away over some guy he didn't know. Liam tried to shake the thoughts of last night from his head.

Niall walked into the kitchen, taking them both by surprise. "What's up with you two?" he asked looking between them. He threw himself into a chair between them. "How'd the big date go?"

Emma was the one who managed to speak first. "Awful. In fact, I think last night did more damage than any of his antics so far." She glared at Liam across the table.

"I already told you that I didn't know. Do you really think that I would have suggested that we go if I did?" Liam snapped back.

Niall surveyed them both again. "Am I missing something?" he asked.

"Your boy here took me to a gay sex club."

Niall's turned to look at Liam surprised. He watched him for a moment. "Give us a minute." Liam looked shocked for a moment but allowed himself to be driven out of his own kitchen anyway.

***

The opening appeared to have been a success. And everyone loved the mural. Zayn couldn't complain about that. He'd already had someone ask if he'd be willing to paint another mural just for them. It looked like everything was working out in his favor, but his mind was distracted. He couldn't get the mystery man out of his thoughts. Liam. He was all Zayn could think about. He'd broken one of his rules for him, no closeted guys. It always ended in disaster, but this time Zayn couldn't help himself.

He lay in Louis's couch the morning after trying to piece together just what it was that had led him into that bathroom. He tried to find the words to explain it all. "I don't know," he said lamely.

Louis shit him a searching look. "You just felt like giving a good time to some stranger in the bathroom? What, he had a nice dick, and you couldn't keep from touching it?" Louis sounded skeptical.

"No," Zayn corrected him. "I told you, he's the one from the mural."

"But you yourself said that he wasn't worth it, hot but not worth it. Isn't he with some girl?" Louis always did have a way of cutting through the bullshit when the need arose. Zayn hated that about him.

Zayn sighed heavily. "That's it. I'm just going to talk to Harry from now on. He's all for me and Liam."

Louis rolled his eyes. "Since when do you and my boyfriend agree on anything? And who is Liam?" Zayn shot him a pointed looked. "Oh," Louis added.

"I asked his name."

"Before you palmed him through his jeans?"

Zayn chose to ignore that. He wasn't going to let Louis tell him to give up just because Liam technically should be off limits. "I'm sure I can get him to ditch the girlfriend," he said. He ignored Louis when he rolled his eyes.

***

Liam never wanted to hear the words regroup and reassess ever again. He was tired of talking, tired of listening. He was just tired all around. He tried to pay attention to what Niall and Emma were saying, but the truth was that he no longer cared. They had said their bits, and now it was time for them to listen for a change. He cleared his throat. "I understand where you are both coming from, but the damage is done. We can't undo what has happened. Can't we spin it, if anyone ever asks, that I was invited as a regular of the bakery downstairs and didn't know until we got there what the club was? Truthfully, you guys are all overreacting. I'm just some little known poet, no one cares about me."

Both of his companions stopped arguing. "I suppose that could work," Emma conceded. "I doubt there was anybody that recognized you last night, shouldn't be too many questions."

Niall looked flabbergasted at them both. "My boss won't see it that way. He has made it clear that if Liam is connected to any kind of scandal, he will be dropped from the company and sued for breach of contract."

"Which he had no grounds for," Liam muttered. Niall pretended not to hear him.

"The point is that we now know what kind of place the club upstairs is. You'll know to avoid it in the future." Emma paused for a moment. "You also need to stay away from that bakery. Clearly the owner is not the kind of person your publisher would want you associated with."

Liam knew better than to look to Niall for help. It was clear that this was one of the things they had decided on while he was out of the room. "If that's what you think is best," he said. "I only ever went there for the coffee."

Neither Niall or Emma weren't able to completely hide their surprise that he had given in so easily. "It won't be a problem?" Niall asked. Liam shook his head. "Good."

It was Emma who asked the next question. "I do need to ask if there is anything else that we need to know. You and I were together for most of the night, but is there anything that I don't know about?" Liam shook his head again. "What about that artist? Did you see him?"

Liam shook his head. Emma seemed to take his response as the only one needed, but Niall surveyed him skeptically for a moment.

***

Zayn sat at a table in the corner watching the people as they came and went. Still no sign of him. He waited. Surely Liam would show up eventually. He pulled his sketch pad closer to him and started drawing while he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited for typos.


	8. Thirty-One Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, I feel, has been a long time in the making, even though it just began a couple of hours ago. I began to type it up and lost everything that I had written, but I have managed to begin again and think that the chapter is better for it. Sometimes fate has a way of interfering and it's only for the best. That said, I think this is an important chapter to get the story pointed in the right direction. I skipped ahead two months because it was important for Liam's storyline. If I hadn't, I feel like every chapter between that last one and this would have been much the same. Hopefully you guys still like it. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 8: Thirty-One Days

Liam stared at the email Niall had just sent him. He couldn't believe it. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that he would be one of the artists chosen by the London Arts Council as an up and coming artist. That was the kind of thing that he thought would never happen to him. And of course, just his luck, it would happen now, when he had writers block. It always happened that way, just when he thought that he was making progress, he would stumble and end up back where he started. Liam glared at the rule that was his undoing, new original material. There was no way he would be able to come up with something in the 31 days that remained before the very first day of the conference. Everything that he had written up until that point wouldn't work, and he wasn't going to be allowed to get much past the censors his publisher had set up that would actually be quality work. Liam had no idea how he was going to get through this.

If he was honest, it wasn't so much that he couldn't write as that there was very little that he could produce that both interested him and suited the needs of his publisher. He was finding it more and more difficult to color inside of the lines, and he knew that nothing that Niall would okay would be something he'd want to present in front of a jury of his peers. He could see it now, the end of his career. Nothing he could say or do was going to change any of it.

He knew that it was at least a little wrong to blame Niall for everything that had transpired, but it was hard when he was the main cause of strife on a daily basis. Mr. Bishop was there almost every day asking about the progress and vetoing everything that Liam wrote, sending Niall to do his dirty work. He knew that Niall was just doing his job, but more and more it felt like Liam was in this completely on his own, with no one in his corner. They had always gotten on so well, but now the pair of them barely spoke. It was getting harder and harder for Niall to understand where Liam was coming from. He just couldn't seem to get it, why this was so hard for Liam.

With a sigh Liam closed the email. He had a month to try and come up with something that his publisher would approve. So far everything he had managed to write has either been so explicit that he didn't even bother trying to turn it in or deemed just subtle enough for someone to maybe come to the conclusion that Liam was attracted to men. Either way it came to the same thing, nothing he had managed to write had been given the approval of the people in charge of his career. Liam hated it. Every day it seemed to bother him more and more. And now he had this great opportunity to advance his career, and he would never be able to take advantage of it because he would be forced to walk on eggshells during the greatest opportunity he'd had to date. It was all too much.

And Emma. Liam hoped that he wouldn't have to take her. It had been two months since their first "date" as a couple, and things had been going relatively smoothly, on the surface at least. Behind the scenes things had been a nightmare though. Namely, Liam didn't like her. At first she had been great, smart and funny, but the longer they had been playing the next it couple, the more her hold over his life had become too much. There was nowhere that he could go, nothing he could do, without consulting her first. It had only started with giving up going to a place he had loved since he moved to town. Soon there were other places that he wasn't allowed to go. Anything that might give someone the wrong idea was unacceptable. And worst of all, she had been hinting that it would look even better if they moved in together. He wasn't sure about that one. He wasn't sure he was ready to commit quite that much to a lie he was already tired of telling. But he knew that eventually that was the way this was going to go, all in. He would never escape, and soon he wouldn't even have the few brief moments of reprieve when he was home alone. It was all becoming too much. He spent all his time with a woman he was finding it harder and harder to stand while the person who increasingly occupied his thoughts was probably lost to him forever.

***

Zayn sat at the same corner table he always sat at. He wasn't sure why. It had been too long since he finally admitted to himself that Liam was probably never going to come back, but it had become a bit of a tradition, sitting there and drawing, waiting for the man of his dreams to walk through the door. It was a cliché, he knew, but every time the bell over the door chimed, he couldn't help but look up. Meanwhile, he had actually found working out of the bakery to be very easy. He would sit and people watch all day, using his imagination to make up stories about their lives. He had a whole mosaic worth of drawings of all the people he saw daily, living the lives he dreamed out for them. When the time came for him to present his latest work at the London Arts Council Festival he knew that he would have a lot of pieces to bring them. Zayn still couldn't believe that someone saw his mural and choose him to be one of the artists honored. He had never imagined that anyone would actually appreciate any of his pieces, but if he played his cards right, he might manage to turn this into something great. He was determined not to screw things up this time. No more bizarre pieces, that was his promise to himself. He hated that he was going to have to wait 31 days before he would leave for the festival.

Zayn looked down at the drawing he had been working on all morning. There on the page was the object of his thoughts. Liam. It was always Liam. Even when Zayn was drawing out the fictional lives of other people, Liam was never far from his mind. There was a whole world in his head where he knew him, loved him. No matter how many times he tried to tell himself that he needed to focus on preparing for next month, he couldn't stop putting Liam into everything he drew. His face just popped up everywhere. This time, Zayn was drawing him intentionally. The scene was one he had never had to chance to witness, but that didn't stop his mind from filling in the blanks. On the page there was a man on a bed, completely naked. The covers were tossed around him, bunched by the bottoms of his hips. Just viable over the covers was the most beautiful cock Zayn had ever seen. A swatch of dark hair was visible resting just beneath it, leading to the large lump hidden under the covers. Zayn had worked hard to get the expression just right. He remembered the softness of Liam's expression as he touched him; Zayn wanted to capture it exactly. So far it had been slow going. He sighed deeply.

Zayn had never really been drawn to someone like he was to Liam. Here he hadn't seen or heard from him in two months, and he was still all Zayn thought about. Even when he was supposed to be working Liam was there. When he was trying to sleep. Brushing his teeth. Eating. Going about his day. There was hardly ever a moment when Zayn's thoughts strayed away from the object of his obsession. It was more than Zayn had ever had with anybody else. Liam was always there in the back of his mind.

At least Zayn could say that it was having positive effects on his work. He had never finished so many pieces in such a short period of time. He almost never wanted to see Liam again if it meant he could keep ion painting. But Zayn didn't want that. He wanted to see Liam again, wanted to act out all the little scenes he had imagined in his mind with him. To touch and be touched by him. It was driving him insane. If only he knew how to reach him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited for typos.


	9. Two Muses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I have done it. Finally there is an interaction between Liam and Zayn without it turning smutty. Well, there is a little smut towards the end, but it serves a purpose.
> 
> Some of you may have noticed that I updated the summary a little. I'm also getting into a large block of chapters on which the heart of he story takes place. Hopefully you guys are still enjoying the story. I'm going to try to get chapter ten up today as well.
> 
> As always, I welcome all questions, comments, and complaints in the comment section. Or you can hit me up on tumblr: Silas Lehnsherr.

Chapter 9: Two Muses

Liam looked up at the sign above the front desk. Welcome to the 15th annual London Arts Council Conference and Festival. This was it, he was finally here. All those years he spent dreaming. He never could have imagined that he would actually manage to make it, especially with where his head was a month before, and yet he had finally found a way to make it work. At least he hoped that he had. "Next," a voice called ahead of him. Liam looked back down at the woman standing behind the counter. He stepped forward and handed over the letter he'd gotten in the mail the week before. "You're here for the conference?" the woman asked. Liam nodded. "ID?" He handed it over the counter.

He waited while she typed something into the computer. Two weeks. He was going to be here for the next two weeks, listening to former honorees give advice to the up and comers, learning and growing, getting ready for the festival at the end where they showcase their work to the art world. He'd be living with all the others too, as even the ones who lived in London like him stayed at the hotel. He couldn't wait. "Here you are," the woman at the front desk said. She handed Liam back his documents and ID. She passed him a keycard as well. "You're on the 17th floor with everyone else. Room 1754. Just dial 0 to call down here with any issues. Everyone that is here for the conference gets free room service; there should be a menu in your room. Do you need any help with your bags?"

"No thank you," Liam replied. He grabbed the two bags sitting at his feet and started heading toward the elevator. He'd gotten halfway there when a voice called out behind him. At the sound of his name Liam spun around and felt like he was falling into a dream.

***

Zayn couldn't believe his eyes. Right there, mere feet away, after all these months stood Liam. Zayn was sure it was him. He never would have imagined that he would be here. How could he when he didn't know anything about him other than how good it felt to have Liam's mouth around his cock. But now here they both were, going to be stuck in the same place for two weeks. He couldn't believe it.

Zayn watched as the other man started to walk away from the front desk, bags in hand. He knew that soon Liam would disappear into the elevator and then into his room. Sure, they would maybe see each other at this function or that, but Zayn knew that it was also possible that they'd barely have time to speak. They'd both be pretty busy after all, there's no telling if they would even be taking the same sort of seminars while the conference was going on. This might be one of the few chances that he had. Throwing caution to the wind he called out, "Liam."

Zayn watched as the other man turned and searched for the speaker. He gave a small wave to give himself away. He watched the look of shock come over Liam's face. He waited to see if the other man would speak. "Zayn?" Liam questioned after a moment.

Zayn smiled and nodded. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you were an artist."

"Poet actually," Liam added. "I got picked for the festival somehow. You?" Zayn nodded. "Great. Congrats. Well, I guess that I'll be seeing you around then. It was nice seeing you again." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Zayn called. "Meet me for a drink later?" Liam looked skeptical. "We could catch up."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Liam responded sternly.

"You're not allowed to have a drink with an old friend?" Zayn raised an eyebrow in surprise. He knew that it was probably a stretch to say that him and Liam were anything at all, let alone old friends. They'd only met twice, and both times had ended rather unexpectedly. Maybe Liam was right and spending time together was a bad idea. Zayn watched as the wheels turned in the other man's head.

After what seemed to take forever Liam finally spoke, "I guess that would be alright. Hotel bar in an hour?"

Zayn nodded. He smiled broadly as Liam turned and continued his walk to the elevator. He waited a moment, until the other man was completely out of sight, before taking his turn at the front desk. He handed over his ID and paperwork showing why he was there. "Old friend?" the woman behind the counter asked. Zayn gave her a confused look. "You and Mr. Payne? You were talking to him a moment ago."

"Oh yeah. Just someone that I used to know, as they say. I can't believe that he's here."

The desk clerk smiled and nodded. "It looks like the room adjoining his is still vacant if you want it."

Zayn couldn't help but laugh a little to himself. "Sure," he said, "could be fun."

"Great," the desk clerk said. She handed him back all his documents and a keycard. "Room 1755."

Zayn nodded and headed up to his room. The whole elevator ride he couldn't stop thinking about the probability of them ending up in the same place for two whole weeks. His mind was so preoccupied that he didn't even notice when be reached their floor. "You getting out buddy?" a man asked behind him.

"Oh yeah," Zayn said. "Sorry, preoccupied." He grabbed his bag and left the elevator.

Once Zayn had deposited his bag on the floor he sank down beside it, phone already in his hand scrolling through his contacts looking for Louis. At the last minute he changed his mind and shot a message to Harry instead. "Got to the hotel finally only to discover he's here." He hit send and waited for a reply. The phone remained silent in his hand for a moment before he brought up Google. His finger flew across the screen as he typed: Liam Payne poet and started to read what was pulled up.

***

Liam collapsed onto the bed. His mind raced. He had finally managed to push Zayn out of his mind after three months of thinking about him continually. He had at last managed to find a balance where he could write about things other than how he imagined it would feel to ride his prick. And just when it had finally all come together, it was starting to crash back down again. Why did he say he would have drinks with him? That was just a recipe for disaster. Liam already knew how it would end. How could he have not foreseen that Zayn might be here?

Liam rolled over onto his back. There was no way he wasn't going to do something stupid if he met Zayn for drinks. Liam just couldn't help himself. He could almost see himself now, down in his knees in front if everybody, swallowing around the other man's cock. It was the only course of action he could imagine.

His dick twitched in his pants at the thought. But that was wrong. He couldn't allow himself to get distracted by his natural urge to try out his gag reflex on this beautiful man. He had chosen to toe the line and could not lose sight of that now. He reached down and squeezed his semi-hard prick through his pants. He moaned quietly. No. There was no way he could meet Zayn for drinks, not when the mere thought of him was making Liam hard. He would have to call down to the front desk and get his room number to let him know the plan had changed. That was the only way. He rubbed against his hardening length. It felt nice to be touched like that, like Zayn had done that night. Liam moaned a little louder, remembering just how Zayn had made him feel.

It was mere seconds before he was reaching into his pants and grabbing ahold of his cock. He stroked himself firmly, chasing his release as fast as he could get it. He had less than an hour before be had to be down in the bar. Just the thought brought him closer. His toes curled in his shoes. He could feel it building. Sweat running down his forehead, gasping for breath. He was on the verge, about to come embarrassingly fast when the phone rang suddenly.

***

Zayn scrolled back to the top and read the post again. He frowned heavily. Surely this person was blowing everything out of proportion. Liam's publisher couldn't do something like that. He read through all the incidents cited as evidence. Sure, the original poster was right about Liam's girlfriend, even Zayn knew that, but it was the first point that still stuck in his mind: 'Untitled' pulled form recent reprinting of the collection. He pulled up another tab and typed in: 'Untitled' by Liam Payne. He clicked on the first link and read. "Oh," he whispered to himself when he got to the end.


	10. Drinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that it took me so long to get this up. I managed to get it write a a couple of days ago but just haven't had a chance to put it up until now.

Chapter 10: Drinks

Zayn worked very hard not to give away that he was anxious. He scanned the room every few seconds, but the other man had yet to arrive in the hotel bar. Zayn was sure he would have noticed him as soon as he came in since the room was almost completely deserted. He looked at his phone again, five after, maybe Liam wasn't coming. He sighed heavily as the door into the bar swung open. He could tell the man was nervous from across the room, but upon spotting his companion, Liam crossed over to the table Zayn had chosen in the back with a purposeful look on his face. "I was starting to wonder where you were," Zayn told him.

Liam had barely sunk into his seat when he responded. "I almost didn't come," he admitted. He looked sheepish as a waitress came and took his drink order. "I wasn't sure if it was a good idea."

Zayn surveyed him for a moment. He had been afraid that was the case. He waited until the server had returned with the drinks and left before he dared speak again. "I was afraid of that." A heavy silence passed between them. Zayn finally spoke. "I looked you up earlier, read a piece of yours even. It surprised me." Liam shot him a confused look. "The subject matter, I mean. It was clearly about having a sexually relationship with another man. I thought you didn't admit you liked things like that."

"Oh," Liam said. He let the silence spread between them again.

Zayn shifted in his seat. This wasn't how he imagined this would go. Every time he thought about Liam it had been so easy between them. Clearly fantasy couldn't inform the real thing the way he hoped. He searched his brain for something to say. "You know, I broke one of my rules for you."

"You have rules?" Liam asked skeptically. "I assumed that someone like you was above the rules."

Zayn grinned smugly. "Usually. But I do have my own rules that I follow."

"Such as?"

Zayn sized him up for a moment. "No closeted guys. It leads to sticky situations, like this one, for example."

Liam scoffed. "I am not in the closet," he countered.

"So your girlfriend knows what you're into, what turns you on?"

"Yes. Not details but the big picture."

Zayn shot him a surprised look. "So she's a beard?"

"No," Liam protested, "okay, yes. Happy?"

Zayn shook his head. "No," he said, "that doesn't make me happy. Why would you sign up for something like that? What is so wrong with just being who you are?"

Liam leaned back in his chair. He knew that it had been a mistake to come here; he had just been wrong about why. "You wouldn't understand. I have people that I have to answer to, people who know all about public perception, and they don't think it would go very well if people know that I'm gay."

"And that you sucked my dick," Zayn added.

"They don't know about that. Well, maybe they do, my editor does, and lately I've come to the conclusion he has a big mouth. They don't know about the other thing though. Or that I've even seen you since." Liam took a drink and sighed.

Zayn scrutinized him sharply. "That still doesn't explain the girlfriend."

Liam chuckled. "That poem you read, the one that you mentioned earlier, is the reason she's around. My publisher feels like she'll lessen the awkward questions. And I'm not allowed to publicly acknowledge that I wrote it."

"But you did write it?" Zayn questioned.

Liam nodded. He picked at his nails. "It's about you actually," he added without looking up.

Zayn looked shocked when Liam finally did look up. "But it was written before we met. That's what it said on the website, that it was published six months ago."

Liam nodded. "It's a long story. The short version: I saw you do this piece in the park, the one with the mime, and couldn't stop thinking about you, so I wrote about it. Someone at a reading asked me if I was gay, and I did not deny it. I never actually said the words, but the damage was still done."

"So that day, that's why?" Zayn asked confused.

Liam shrugged. "I don't know why I did that. I don't ever do things like that. I just saw you and ignored any part of me that thought it was a bad idea. I was rebelling, I guess. I already knew about Emma, or at least that I'd have to pretend to date someone, and just wanted to for one moment be myself one last time. At least that is what I have concluded. I mean, you don't get it, my whole life has been planned out for me. I think that you were a brief moment of me being me, at least a little."

Zayn frowned. "I wouldn't do that, lie about who I was. I'd leave."

"They'd take it all. Everything that I've worked for, gone." There was a note of desperation in Liam's voice.

Zayn shook his head. "And they haven't done that already?"

Liam opened his mouth to speak several times before he found the words. "I don't know. I just know that I want to write. And right now I'm going to have to do that on their terms." He shrugged.

Zayn scoffed. "You shouldn't have to though. That poem I read was honest, gritty and rough, but honest. You thought those things, they meant something to you. Why would you choose to give that up for someone who says you have to lie about who you are?"

"And you weren't lying when you started painting that mural for the club over the bakery? I saw it, all smooth lines and soft colors. It looked nothing like the rest of your work," Liam countered.

"I was, but I stopped. I never finished that and painted something else instead." Zayn paused. "I changed it because of you, and now I find out that you've just been hiding all along, lying."

"Not all of us get to create whatever we want without having to answer to someone who knows far better than us." Liam was obviously failing at not sounding defensive.

Zayn shook his head. "You're not being honest, there is no excuse for that."

Liam sighed heavily. His glass left a ring of water behind as he shifted it around on the table, he weighed his words carefully. "Sorry to disappoint," he finally said.

Zayn nodded absentmindedly. "I guess I've just never thought about doing something like that. I've always been me to a fault. You know I got arrested?" Liam shook his head and looked confused. "Twice actually. I got picked up for public indecency, and when they fined me I stood on the steps of the courthouse, naked, in protest. And got arrested again. That's how I ended up painting the mural; I needed the money."

"So you sold out?" Liam teased.

"No more than you."

Liam chuckled to himself, "yeah, no more than me."

***

Liam was well last drunk. He suspected that Zayn was as well, in the small part of his brain still capable of coherent thought. But at least Zayn was still somewhat in control; Liam couldn't stop talking, saying the first thing that came to his mind. "I wasn't going to come tonight," he said yet again. He'd been saying it over and over all night.

"You said that," Zayn even reminded him.

"I know, I just was afraid of seeing you. I thought that I'd lose control again."

Zayn chuckled. "You seem fine to me. Are you really so likely to fly off the handle? You were wrong."

Liam shook his head. "Not wrong. I had to...twice, to come here. Even with Niall's interrupting, still had to... Do you know how much I want to suck your dick right now?"

Zayn raised an eyebrow. "I think you've had enough, you're not making sense."

Liam laughed loudly. "I'm fine; you're the one that's drunk." He was quiet for a moment. "I should go."

Zayn nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea, sleep it off before tomorrow."

"Yeah," Liam nodded. He stopped aburptly, clutching his head. "Dizzy. Shouldn't do that. Shouldn't stay. Rules. Must remember rules. Not allowed. Do you know how long it's been? You. That's how long, not since you. And that not much. And I really want to suck your dick right now."

"You should go to bed," Zayn told him.

"Do you want to come?" Liam asked eagerly.

Zayn gave him a pained look. "I really shouldn't. You really need to sleep it off."

Liam looked offended. "Not nice. Here I was going to let you fuck me, and you go and be rude!"

"I'd prefer it if you were sober. Talk to me tomorrow and maybe my answer will be different. For now, I'm going to pass. Don't want to but I must." Zayn surveyed him for a moment. "Come on. Let's get you to bed." He got up from his chair and pulled Liam shakily to him feet. Liam stumbled into him and started kissing his neck. "Oh you're going to be the death of me," Zayn muttered as he steered them toward the elevator.


	11. Room 1755

Chapter 11: Room 1755

Liam woke up aburptly and knew instantly that he was not in his hotel room. It looked much the same, but there were items strewn around the room that did not belong to him. He groaned loudly, trying to piece together the events that had led him to be wherever he had landed. They had been in the bar. That much was clear. He even remembered going down there reluctantly. And he remembered the drinking, most of it. Things were hazy then. Blurred. They came upstairs. Numbers on the doors. His room, he remembered that. He went in his room. Wall. He came through a wall. That didn't make sense. How could he walk through walls?

Liam opened his eyes once more to survey the room on hopes that that might help, but he couldn't recall anything more, anything that made sense. He turned toward the sound of a door opening. Zayn stood in the doorway, hair wet, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. Liam took in the tattoos on the other man's chest. Winged lips. Why was that so familiar? "I see you're up," Zayn commented softly.

"How did I end up here?" Liam asked.

Zayn pointed at a small door that stood across from the bathroom. When Liam continued to look confused he explained. "It leads to your room. I took you back last night, because you couldn't walk by yourself, I thought, and then you came through the doors that adjoin our rooms. How you knew that I was next door, I don't know. I might have told you last night and forgot." He chuckled lightly. "I woke up, rather suddenly I might add, to you in bed beside me, naked, and kissing my chest. You don't remember?" Liam pulled the blankets off of himself and peered beneath them, a pair of sweats covered his lower half though it was clear they were at least a size too small. He shot the other man a questioning look. "I felt it was necessary," Zayn went on. "I wouldn't have been responsible for my actions if I hadn't..." He trailed off. "I must apologize for any accidental touching that may have happened; you weren't very cooperative."

Liam groaned loudly. "Naturally," he muttered to himself.

Zayn looked him over for a moment. "You look awful," he commented.

"Oh thanks. I'm sure my breath is awful too."

"I have mouth wash," Zayn said. He pointed to the bathroom behind him.

Liam untangled himself from the sheets and stomped off to the bathroom. He was fully prepared to hide in there until the time came to head down to the conference. Instead he splashed some water on his face, got rid of his foul morning breath, attempted his best to tame his hair, and went to the bathroom before walking back into the main part of the hotel room to find that Zayn had moved barely a foot from the door. He had made no move to get dressed. Liam gave him a once over now that he felt somewhat human. "I'm sorry if I caused you any issues last night." He leaned his head against the doorframe.

Zayn sighed heavily. "You weren't in your right mind." He tried very hard not to look at Liam in his too small sweats. There was a definite bulge against Liam's left thigh. He tried not to think about it. "You're not easy to say no to," he added in an undertone.

Liam pushed off from the wall and walked over to him. He leaned down and whispered in Zayn's ear. "I bet it's even harder when you don't want to say no." He twisted a hand into the towel around the other man's waist and pulled it free. There was a small intake of breath in his ear. "I believe," Liam continued softly, "that last night you mentioned something about being sober."

Zayn scoffed. "I also said that I don't hook up with guys like you. Hey! No touching!"

Liam chuckled as he continued to run his hand up Zayn's inner thigh. "I believe you said that last night too." His fingers found the other man's member and ran along the head gently.

"And yet you don't listen." Zayn made no move to get out of Liam's grasp despite his protest.

"You keep saying things that aren't true." He gripped ahold of Zayn's dick and stroked him slowly. He leaned forward and took one of Zayn's earlobes in his mouth and nipped at it, eliciting a moan. He sucked gently for a moment before whispered to his companion once more, "Do you remember that time when you pinned me up against the wall in the bathroom, and you told me how eagerly I took your cock in my mouth, how much you wanted to put it other places, how you bet I'd even want you to? What if I told you I do? I want you to do that right now." He pulled away a little to look at Zayn. The other man's pupils were blown wide. Liam gripped tighter, speeding up his ministrations. "I want you to fuck me." Zayn shook his head but simultaneously leaned in. Liam grinned widely. He leaned forward and pulled Zayn into a kiss.

Zayn moaned loudly against their joined mouths. He slipped his tongue against the seam of Liam's mouth, pulling them deeper. Messy, that's what he kept telling himself, this could get messy, but every part of him wanted to go on, had thought about going on. He couldn't manage to stop as their tongues danced together. He reached down and hooked a finger in the waistband of his sweats, felt the elastic give a little as he eased up them down Liam's thighs. He gasped loudly as Liam kicked out of them. "We shouldn't do this," he said panting. Maybe it was the fact that they now stood inches from each other completely naked that drove home how much of a bad idea this all was.

Liam dropped his hand from where it had been around his would be lover's cock. "Why? I fuck men; you fuck men. It appears me both want to fuck each other. So why do you want to stop?"

Zayn was taken aback by the harshness of Liam's tone. "Because I don't fuck men who won't kiss me in public."

Liam scoffed. "Maybe you don't fuck men at all. Maybe you're all talk. The way I see it, everytime I have tried to hook up with you, last night, this morning, you stop. You're positive you like to fuck other men?"

Zayn looked afronted. "You were drunk last night."

"So were you. And yet you didn't want to."

Zayn's mouth formed around the word want. He let his lips wrap around it, sound it out, but no actual sound came out. He reached out and shoved Liam onto the bed. He looked down at the man lying there, looking for some sign of regret that he had started this. He eased down onto the bed beside him, his fingers going to Liam's hair. His words formed around the word again before he leaned down and kissed the other man hard. He pulled hard on the hair twisted around his fingers. How could Liam think that he wouldn't want this?

Liam pulled Zayn on top of him, their cocks brushing against each other. Both men moaned but made no further move toward increasing the friction. Zayn continued pulling his hair as Liam worked to deepen their kiss. It was unfathomable to him that they had never managed to actually kiss like this before this. How had they managed to dance around each other in such a way that their lips had barely touched before this? Liam bucked up against his lover, wanting to feel him again.

Zayn groaned as he worked his hips against the man beneath him. "We're going to be late," he whispered, barely breaking their kiss.

"We won't be if you'd just touch me," Liam whispered back.

Zayn broke away from Liam's lips and got off the bed. He could feel the other man's eyes on him as he dug through his bag for the lube and condoms he knew that he'd packed. Having found them he plopped back down on the bed next to where Liam had curled up in his absence. He let his eyes run over Liam's naked form. He reached out and ran a hand down Liam's chest and stomach, playing with the trail of hair that led down to where he was throbbing, ready to be touched. Zayn's hand ran over his hip and down over his butt cheek. Liam watched him with soft eyes as one of his fingers slid between the cheeks and found his furled hole. "There?" Zayn asked softly. There was an almost teasing note to his voice.

Liam nodded as the finger was removed. For some reason he found himself unable to speak. He rolled over onto his back as Zayn opened the bottle of lube and squirted some on his fingers. Liam watched as Zayn scooted closer and slid his knees apart, revealing the hard line of his cock leaking against his stomach. He winced slightly as he felt a finger ease inside him. He exhaled loudly as it worked in to the second knuckle. He panted lightly as his body started to give a little. The finger was pulled out of him, pushed very slowly back in. He moaned into the push, breathing deeply. It had been awhile since anyone else had done this to him; he'd forgotten it could hurt. The burn between his thighs began to ebb, and he began to work his hips down to meet the probing digit. "Zayn," he moaned softly.

Zayn reached up and ran his clean hand through Liam's hair again. "Feel good babe?" Liam nodded. "Want more?" Liam panted loudly, but Zayn assumed that was a yes. He pulled his finger out only to slip it back in with another beside it. He could tell by the look on Liam's face that the stretch was a bit much. He ran his hand softly through the other man's hair. "Easy. Just breathe. I'll make you feel better."

Liam nodded against Zayn's hand and waited for the burn to fade a little once more. He gave a small flick of his hips to test out his comfort. It throbbed a little, but he knew that he could take it. He rolled his hips back down, hoping Zayn would move his fingers soon. He did. Liam's hips rolled back and forth across the sheets, adding to the friction caused by the digits moving in and out of him. Zayn worked his fingers in further, searching. He felt the very tips of his fingers brush against the bundle of nerves he had been looking for. Liam's mouth opened in a silent moan, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Zayn rubbed his fingers across the spot over and over, trying to get the exact same reaction. Liam's cock spurting against his stomach, smearing precome across his abs.

Zayn pulled his fingers out a little, enough to ease in a third. He kept his thrusts shallow until Liam was bucking down to him again. He scissored his fingers apart, trying to stretch the other man a little more before slipping into him. He slid his fingers higher, searching again. "Please," Liam panted as Zayn brushed against his prostate again. Zayn looked down at the writhing man beneath him and slid his fingers out.

Liam watched, half mesmerized as Zayn unrolled the condom onto his dick and squirted more lube onto his hand. Zayn hissed slightly as he rubbed his palm up and down his length. It was almost too much for him to be touched. Liam reached out to him and pulled the other man on top of him. He leaned up and kissed Zayn as he felt the other man settle between his legs. He reached down and grabbed ahold of the cock rubbing wetly against him and eased it to his stretched hole. His eyes closed a little in discomfort as he pressed the head past the tight ring of muscles. He exhaled sharply. "We can stop," Zayn whispered against his lips.

"No," Liam said. He flicked his hips down a little and moaned painfully. "I'm fine," he panted.

Zayn watched him carefully, his clean fingers combing through Liam's hair. Everytime the man beneath him would relax a little he would thrust a little more causing pain to cloud Liam's vision. He hated it, but there was this softly little sigh that escaped Liam's lips when Zayn bottomed out that almost made it worth it. He leaned down and kissed him softly as he eased out a little and worked back in. He was glad he hadn't known it'd feel like this last night; he would have broken sooner.

Liam wrapped his legs around Zayn's back and worked his hips in rhythm with the slow push and pull between his thighs. He panted loudly as the pain eased with each thrust. He slowly sped up his thrusts forcing Zayn to do the same. He couldn't believe he had managed to go so many months without having someone inside him like this. He snapped his hips faster as Zayn's fingers wound tighter into his hair.

"You like that, huh, when I pull your hair?" Zayn gave an experimental yank and felt Liam tighten around him. "Even better," he whispered, "it turns you on." He pulled hard.

Liam moaned loudly, precome slicking up their chests as Zayn thrust in and out of him. The fingers wound even further into his hair and pulled harder. He groaned loudly. Zayn snapped his hips hard, driving his cock deeper; Liam moaned loudly as Zayn jabbed against his prostate. He tightened the grip of his legs, dragging the other man deeper. "So good," Liam panted.

Zayn pressed over and over into Liam's prostate, punctuating each thrust with a sharp yank of his hair. He knew he was close as he sped up. Liam was clearly nearly there too. He milked Zayn's cock hard as he panted and moaned. Zayn hit that bundle of nerves deep inside him over and over. Liam gasped suddenly, and Zayn felt him paint their chests white. "You always come some quietly," he whispered in Liam's ear as he fucked him through the aftershocks. He felt his own release building and sped up as he filled the condom.

Liam groaned painfully as Zayn pulled out of him. He struggled to regain his breath as Zayn leaned over him to throw away the condom. He stared up at the ceiling as the other man collapsed beside him, also out of breath. They lay there for a moment before Liam was able to speak. "I think you were right," he said, "We're definitely going to be late."


	12. Big Fish, Small Pond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it has been a week since I put up a chapter, but sometimes it is hard for me to write during the week after work. I will try to do better in the future, but I promise that even if it is all that I can do, I will put up at least a chapter a week. Hopefully that will work out for us all. I will also attempt not to get continually distracted, so that when I do sit down to write it will all come together. I have also managed to find a place for all the junk cluttering up my desk, and I hope that typing this up on a computer instead of my iPad will help to eliminate some of my many typos. As always, I welcome all questions, comments, and complaints both on here and on tumblr. (I'm Silas-Lehnsherr on there.)

Chapter 12: Big Fish, Small Pond

Zayn had learned many things in the days that had passed since he had arrived at the LAC Conference. The first was that he was doing far better than he ever would have expected. Apparently Louis had been right all along that if he cut back on the crazed public performances that his beginning career had been known for, he might actually get some real recognition for his artistic ability. He had gone to a number of panels and classes taught by some of the most infamous names in the London art scene since his arrival, and he had discovered that his new pieces were widely loved by all. He was continually praised for his honesty in portraying his subjects and the every day situations that they were enthralled in. No one had ever fully understood what he had been trying to say before this, but now that he had discarded some of the more over-the-top displays he had embraced a year previously, everyone appeared to get it. He couldn't wait to race up to his room to tell Liam all about the progress that he felt he'd been making. He was sure that some of his pieces would be selected for the festival at the end of the conference, even mere days after it had started. But the words never left his mouth. All his success and achievement fled from his mind the second he stepped over the threshold into the room that had taken over as a kind of dual residence for them both, the room that had once been solely his own. Because the second thing Zayn had learned was that Liam wasn't doing nearly as well as him.

***

All Liam's life he had been a forerunner in anything that he tried his hand at. He was always smart and hardworking, so that even when he could not effortlessly shine far above all others he was more than willing to put in the necessary work to achieve his dreams. The less than stellar reception that he had received since he arrival had taken its toll on his confidence. It was obvious that everyone had expected much better out of him than the paltry poems he had shown up with. It was a new experience for him. He had been dodging the calls coming in from Niall knowing that the other man would be disappointed in the poor performance Liam had given thus far. The problem was that he had no way to improve. Every exercise they had tried in class to bring forth the kind of art they were looking for had failed to yield any real results. Liam was to the point of just assuming that he would never be able to keep up with the powerhouses that sat in class with him. He was clearly not their equal. He was the big fish in the small pond, brilliant as long as he was surrounded by dimmer stars. He knew that he was never going to make it to the showcase at the end, no way his work would be submitted. What would Mr. Bishop have to say about that?

He sighed heavily and looked at the clock behind him. It was nearly noon on the third day, and he sat in the same seminar he had attend every morning up until that point. Each poet invited was present. They would take in turn to read their pieces for the class and then they'd all discuss. So far, Liam had failed to read a single poem in this class. None of his poems had been selected by October, the poet who ran the seminar. He knew that she was more than a little disappointed that he had summited such junk, but he couldn't understand her any more than she could him. Not for the first time since he had sat through this daily torture, he wondered why she would choose to call herself October; he knew for a fact that her real name was Jane Clarke. He knew because he had always been a fan of hers; he had admit that it hurt a little that she had no interest in anything that he had to say. Last night's assignment had been to write a completely new poem, one not submitted originally, and yet again, she had not chosen one of Liam's for the group share. He only half listened as a young woman read a dramatic piece about slipping into the welcoming bosom of death and considered if just maybe, the sheer melodrama of the piece would have pushed even Sylvia Plath toward death sooner. He couldn't understand why her poem would have been chosen over his, but he wasn't going to allow himself to wallow in misery. He'd known that the piece was hastily thrown together, and even his more thought out pieces of late had been lacking, but he thought that he'd managed to at least write something decent this time. Clearly October did not agree with him.

The young woman quit reading and looked proud of herself. "Does anyone have any thoughts?" October asked the group. No one responded. "I see," she added. Everyone shifted uneasily under he gaze as she looked from one member of the group to the next. "The assignment was to write outside of your comfort zone. While I find death as depressingly fascinating as you do Willow, I asked you to try your hand at something else. Like Liam's poem for example." Liam looked up from his nailed surprised to be called out all the sudden. October continued on, "Each and everyone of you have shown an ability to be selectively honest. What we require is actual honesty if you expect to go on. So far only one of you managed to say something different than the works you submitted at the beginning of this contest. Good job Liam, I'm glad to see that you are in fact still capable of writing something genuine." Liam didn't like having all the eyes in the room on him. He'd thought they'd all hated him before this point. "I think this will be a good place to stop," the teacher added, drawing the attention back to her. " I want all of you to go try again. I would like for you to stay after Liam."

Liam tried not to pay attention to the dirty looks exchanged between his classmates as they left the room. Willow especially did not look pleased to have Liam take her place as teacher's pet, no matter how briefly. He knew that the next assignment would usurp his tenuous position, and that none of them had anything to really concern themselves with. He waited until they were all out of the room before he relaxed a little into his seat. He waited for the teacher to speak. "I wanted to discuss with you the poem you submitted." Liam attempted to keep his face impassive. "It was unlike anything that you have written for this class so far, or like anything you submitted for the conference. It was, however, very much like some of your older work." Liam opened his mouth to speak. "I'm not complaining," she hastened to add. "It was real, honest, what I was looking for. It made me question the work you've produced lately."

Liam weighed his words carefully. She was a hard one to read, and he knew that he needed to tread carefully with the truth. "Writer's block, you know. I think that I got caught up with the idea of the conference or something. It was hard to put anything on paper. I think that being here has helped. It's easier to not get so overwhelmed when you're in the thick of it." He waited to see if he had judged her accurately.

October scrutinized him. "You're it's not something else?" Liam shook his head. The woman across from him appeared to be thinking acutely about what she wanted to say. "You know, I find that the only way to truly make anything worthy of the term art, even poetry, is to be honest, completely. Maybe that honesty is blunt, may it is not, but at some point the poet must tell the absolute truth to themselves. This poem you submitted is your truth, and it is a very explicit truth. It says painfully, both verbally and nonverbally, that you are struggling. It says that you feel unequal to the people in this room. Why is that?"

"It's not difficult to guess. This is the first time that you have so much acknowledged that I write since we started. Everyone else has read something, so it's obvious that they are better writers than me." Liam leaned back with a sense of finality.

October leaned forward toward him almost unconsciously. "You think that Willow is a better writer than you? She has one tone, anguish." Liam laughed. "Do you know what struck me about every piece you submitted except this latest one? That they were shallow. Mundane. I don't understand the person who wrote them. That was never a problem with any other piece I read of yours before. I thought maybe you'd lost it. What happened?" Liam shrugged. "There must have been something. You don't have to tell me what it is if you don't want to, but know that I you can if you want. Also, this, what you gave me this time, is what I expect in the future. Whatever it is that has blocked you, fix it."

Liam remained sitting as October rose from her seat and left his alone in the room. He looked up at the clock to gage the time before standing and returning to his room upstairs.

***

Zayn entered his hotel room and found himself surprised that it was empty. Liam always got back from class shortly after noon, and once Zayn finished at one, they would order room service together. It was sort of a tradition, even if a new one, and it was wrong that Liam wouldn't be here when Zayn returned. On a hunch, Zayn went to the door that adjoined their rooms and pushed his way through the doors. Sure enough, there sat Liam at the desk. A number of torn and crumpled pages littered the floor around him. As Zayn watched, another page joined their ranks. "What's wrong?" he asked, though he knew.

Liam turned around and assessed the man speaking. "None of it works," he responded. "I have to submit something tomorrow, and nothing I had prepared works."

Zayn sighed heavily. He sank onto the bed and tried to compose his thoughts. "What happened today?"

"She loved it," Liam said. His tone was confusing, almost like he was more worried about the praise than the censure. Zayn must have shown his confusion because Liam went on. "The poem I wrote last night, October loved it. Said it was honest, and that she expects me to submit something equally good. I don't have anything. I'll have to start from scratch!"

Zayn took note of the panic in his tone. He had gone through that same crisis himself and knew that staring at a blank sheet of paper wasn't going to help any. "You need a break. Come here." Despite what he assumed would be the reaction of the other man, Liam rose from the desk and sat down beside him. "You need to relax or else nothing will come out. Stress doesn't help, as you should know." Liam nodded. He left Zayn pull him into a brief kiss. "Now, are you hungry?"

Liam laughed. He looked Zayn over for a second. "Not for food," he said. Zayn scoffed. "What?" Liam asked innocently, "You said I needed to relax."

Zayn rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be pushed down onto the bed. He looked up at Liam, hovering above him. He figured that lunch could wait.


	13. Still Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to anyone who stumbled across this chapter before it was finished. I had meant to hit preview and hit the wrong button. This is the finished version.
> 
> This chapter not a lot seems to happen, but there is actually quite a bit going on. I have plans to try to get another chapter up this weekend, so this is merely a bridge to that, Hopefully you guys like it,

Chapter 13: Still Liam

It had been difficult, writing. It was always difficult these days. No matter how Liam tried, he could never just sit down and have it all flow out of him like was once the case. He could tell that October was disappointed with the fare he was becoming known for. Having seen first hand that he could write, she was constantly expecting something similar. Not for the first time she expressed her belief that he was losing sight of his voice. "That one poem was about a sense of isolation, about feeling unequal to being here. Maybe that is what you have to say."

Liam sighed loudly. They had had this particular conversation multiple times. "I don't know what's wrong, I really don't. It used to be so easy to write, but now I struggle to get even the most basic crap down on the page."

October surveyed him for a moment before sinking down in the chair across from him. They were still in the room they used for class. "What's changed in your life since you started finding it difficult to write?" Liam shot her a confused look. "Maybe that's your answer. Whatever it was that changed, that could be your problem. I say go back and look over what you wrote before it was difficult, see what makes those poems different."

***

Liam stared down at the screen before him. The line blinked threateningly in the blank document. Apparently writing of any kind was beyond him. He tired to clear his thoughts. Changes. That was what he was going for. What had changed since the last time he had found it effortless to write? Zayn. That was the only thing he could think of. He hadn't written since he and met Zayn, officially met him. But that wasn't right. He hadn't been able to write long before that point. What was it? What had changed?

They sat in two stacks on the desk next to him, the poems he'd written before and after it had become difficult. Liam looked over them with an eye toward their differences. What made one different from the other. There had to be something to set each one apart. He thought about what October had said to him,. What had changed? When was the last time he found it easy to write? There had been something that changed, he knew it. He'd been on tour, that much he was sure. But he'd had no problem writing at home in the past, so it couldn't be that. There was something. What was it that he wrote about before? Liam turned his attention to that stack. He read each poem through, typing the subject onto the word document he'd pulled up. Once he was done, he made another column and turned to the stack of new poems.

***

"I'm gay," Liam said upon hearing the other man shut the door behind him.

"News to me," Zayn responded. "I never would have guessed."

Liam scoffed and turned around in his chair to face him. "No, you don't understand. Today October told me that I needed to go back and look over my old poems to see what made them different than the ones I've been writing lately. And that's the answer."

"That you're gay?" Zayn shot him a confused look. "That makes no sense."

Liam rose from his seat. He walked over to where Zayn was standing and wrapped his arms around his middle. "It makes perfect sense." Zayn raised a questioning brow. "You remember that poem you read last week, right after we got here, and you said that it surprised you what it was about? Well, it's not the only one. When I went back and read them all, I found that I had a bunch of them that were far less explicit but still very much about that, the fact that I like men."

Zayn nodded in an absentminded kind of way. "And that had what to do with writing?" he asked.

"Honesty," Liam replied. "You yourself said it, I'm not honest. I have trouble writing because I can't write what I want."

Zayn nodded absentmindedly again as he allowed himself to be pulled in for a kiss.

***

Zayn figured that he liked it better when Liam wasn't able to write. He felt bad about felling that way, but it was hard to not regret the days when Liam needed a distraction from his issues. Now that he had found a way through the blockage, Zayn found himself increasingly alone in his hotel bed. There was even a part of him that wanted to tell Liam that all his work was for nothing. And it was. There was no way that his publisher was ever going to let the majority of what Liam was writing see the light of day. It was all tainted by the subject that Liam had been forbidden to explore. But Zayn wasn't so heartless. No matter how much it left him alone, Zayn couldn't bring himself to hurt Liam. And so he said nothing and allowed Liam to wile away the days delving deeper into his craft. And Zayn painted. And their days slipped away.


	14. Second Comings

Chapter 14: Second Comings

Zayn pulled Liam closer. It was the morning of their very last day at the conference. Their last day together. Once it was all said and done they would walk out into the world at large, both men going back to their lives. There were so many questions that Zayn wanted to ask, so many things he dared not to know. He wanted Liam to stay just where he was, to never go away, but he knew that their time was over. Soon he would return to the world that had released him, return to her. She would be here today. It was time for the showcase and all their significant others, both personal and professional, would be arriving soon to see what the last month had been about. And never again would Zayn wake up with Liam in his arms. And that wasn't right. Zayn buried his face in the crook for Liam's shoulder and breathed in his scent. He couldn't stop wanting to breathe his lover in. He kissed Liam's bare shoulder softly. A soft moan escaped the other man. "Liam," Zayn whispered in his ear.

I'm trying to sleep," Liam mumbled back. Zayn ignored him. He kissed his way down Liam's back slowly, running his tongue down the other man's spine. A hand reached back and ran softly through Zayn's hair. "What are you doing babe?" Liam's voice was thick with sleep.

Zayn tongue reached the small of Liam's back. He bit down softly just above the swell of the other man ass eliciting a sharp intake of breath. He smoothed over the mark he'd made with his tongue, kissing over his teeth marks. He pulled his mouth away once a small red mark was evidence of what he'd done. "Mine," he whispered against Liam's back as he pointed his tongue and drug it down between his lover's crack.

Liam gasped loudly as Zayn's tongue delved deeper, searching. "Oh," he moaned as Zayn's tongue found its mark.

Zayn reached down and pulled Liam's checks apart and he pressed the tip of his tongue past the tight muscles of Liam's hole. He felt Liam give a little around his tongue. Zayn pressed deeper, pulling his tongue back out only to press back a little further. He searched for the spot that he knew would drive Liam crazy. He loved doing this to him, unraveling him in the morning. He probed further until a small gasp told him he'd found his mark. Zayn ran his tongue over the bundle of nerves until Liam was shaking against him. He pulled his tongue away and kissed gently against the hole, running his tongue gently around the rim. "Who do you belong to?" he whispered softly, his voice barely audible. When Liam did not respond, he leaned forward and bit him hard on the ass. "I asked you a question," Zayn said sharply. "Who do you belong to?"

Liam moaned loudly. "You," he whispered. He was rewarded by Zayn running his tongue along his rim once more. "Please," he whispered softly.

Zayn seemed to know what he was asking for. He leaned in, his tongue slipping back inside his lover as he reached around his hip to take a hold of his cock. Liam hissed as Zayn wrapped his hand around his leaking member. Zayn stroked him firmly as he sped up the thrusts of his tongue. He pressed his tip against the bundle of nerves again and wrapped his hand around the head, collecting the precome pooling there to ease his slide. Liam writhed against him and hissed loudly. Zayn sped up his ministrations. Liam half twisted away, panting loudly. Zayn felt him jerking in his palm and pressed his tongue deeper, pushing against Liam's prostate over and over again, trying to help push Liam completely over the edge. Liam groaned loudly as he fell over the edge. Zayn stroked him through it, pulling his hand away when he was sure that Liam had ridden out the aftershocks.

"You know I hate you," Liam muttered as Zayn pulled away.

Zayn chuckled. "We both know that isn't true." He fell back against his pillow and traced the knots of Liam's spine with his fingers. "I'm going to miss this," he said softly.

Liam rolled over to face the other man. He smiled at him sadly. He was going to miss this too, but how was he supposed to put a sentiment like that in words. "We'll see each other again," he finally said instead.

Zayn chuckled darkly. "Not like this. I have to be good from now on, pretend like I don't know how good it feels to be inside you." He leaned forward and kissed along Liam's collarbone.

Liam moaned softly. He ran his fingers through Zayn's hair again. "This is you being good?"

"Later," Zayn responded, biting gently. He rolled his hips against Liam causing a painful hiss as their cocks rubbed against each other, but Liam didn't luck away despite his sensitive he was. Zayn kissed his way up Liam's neck, leaving marks behind with his lips and teeth. If he was going to have to relinquish their time together he wanted everyone to know that Liam belonged to him. He bit down on one of Liam's earlobes, pulling it into his mouth. He rolled his hips again, much slower this time. "I want you to come down my throat," he whispered in Liam's ear.

Liam groaned as Zayn began kissing his way down his chest. "Zayn," he whispered softly, running his hands through the other man's hair. "You don't have..." He trailed off as Zayn's lips wrapped around his head. He wasn't even hard again, but he knew that soon that would not be an issue. He could already feel the blood easing south as Zayn's tongue massaged him. "Oh baby," he moaned, his fingers tangling in the dyed blond locks.

Zayn pushed down, taking more of Liam into his mouth while he was still growing. He'd never been very good at deep throating, not like Liam was, so he took the opportunity to swallow him to the root while he still had the chance. Even that little bit was almost too much. He pulled off to keep from gagging the second the head hit the back of his throat. Instead he wrapped his hand around the base and stroked the little bits not in his mouth as he bobbed his head up and down. Liam tightened his grip as Zayn swallowed hard around the head. Zayn pulled off completely to find that Liam was mostly hard in his hand. He used the saliva he'd left behind to stroke him rapidly. Liam stared down at him as Zayn dived back down to begin again. Liam hissed loudly as Zayn lapped at his slit. "You taste so good," Zayn said.

Liam groaned. "You know I hate when you say things like that!" He pulled on Zayn's hair. Zayn wrapped his lips around the head once more and sucked gently, the way he knew Liam liked. He pulled up to kiss around the crown before repeating the action. "You're too good at that," Liam whispered. "If you don't stop that I really will come."

Zayn pulled off to lick down Liam's shaft, circling his tongue around the base before running his tongue back up again. Liam moaned softly as Zayn's mouth engulfed him again. Zayn worked to relax his throat as he ran a finger between Liam's butt cheeks. He eased his way down as a digit slipped past the slightly loosened muscles. Liam hissed at the stretch as the tip of his cock hit the back of Zayn's throat. Zayn gagged around. "Pull back," Liam groaned. He pulled Zayn off of him, as the other man gasped for breath. Liam ran his palm against Zayn's stumbled cheek. "It's fine. You don't have to do that baby."

Zayn struggled to regain his breath. He pushed his finger in deeper just for the way that Liam bit his lip at the slight discomfort. "I want to. It always feels so good when you swallow around me; I want to make you feel like that." His voice was rough from the stress of his actions.

Liam rubbed his cheek softly as Zayn pushed and pulled his finger in and out of his hole. He nodded after a moment. "Go slow. And breathe." Zayn nodded as he pulled Liam back into his mouth. He eased his finger out to push a second one in beside it. Liam hissed loudly, and Zayn continued to slowly take more and more of Liam into his mouth. He bobbed up and down, taking in a little more with each descent. He worked to relax as he felt Liam's tip touch the back of his throat again. He breathed shallowly, trying to adjust to being so deep. He eased off a little and pushed down again. He swallowed. Liam groaned. "That's it baby. Like that." Zayn scissored his fingers apart as he swallowed again. He pulled back a little and twisted his fingers against where he knew Liam's prostate was. "Oh," Liam moaned as he jerked in Zayn's mouth. Zayn shallowed around his tip again when it hit the back if this throat again. He repeated the action, pulling back some, pressing his fingers deeper, swallowing. Liam knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He threaded his fingers through Zayn's hair continually as he felt his release being sucked out of him. He moaned loudly as Zayn swallowed once more and he lost it. Jerking against Zayn's tongue he shit his release down the other man's throat, the fingers pressing into his prostate making him come harder.

Zayn pulled off of Liam's dick but kept his fingers shallowly thrusting into him. He kissed along Liam's hips as he endeavors do to work him up all over again before he'd even fully wound down. Liam squirmed against him. Zayn's fingers probed deeper again. They brushed against Liam's sensitive prostate eliciting a sharp hiss. "Shh," Zayn whispered against his hip. He kissed his way back down and took the head of Liam's dick back into his mouth, licking off the come left around the slit. Liam squirmed against him but didn't ask Zayn to stop.

Liam moaned softly as Zayn pulled off of him. His dick laid soft between them as Zayn went back to marking up his hip. He could feel his muscles giving as Zayn slid a third finger into him, but Zayn was carefully avoiding his prostate. Every muscle in his body was relaxed after having come twice and part of him really wanted to just close his eyes and sleep. The only thing that kept him in the moment was the burn from the stretch without any lube. Zayn shifted against him, and Liam suddenly felt just how hard his lover was. "Oh baby," he whispered, running his hands lovingly through Zayn's hair. Liam wanted to pull him up and swallow him whole until Zayn came down his throat. But then Zayn's fingers brushed against his prostate again and his dick twitched hopefully. He pulled Zayn up to him, even only to lay beside him.

Zayn allowed himself to be yanked up the bed but kept his fingers probing shallowly. He curled into Liam and pressed his fingers in a little deeper and took note of the sharp intake of breath from the man beside him. He looked down between them to see the half hard cock resting against Liam's legs. "Are you getting hard again babe?" he whispered in his ear.

Liam nodded. "Want it," he moaned softly.

Zayn groaned. "Liam," he whispered.

"It's okay." Liam rolled his hips down onto Zayn's fingers, pushing them into his prostate. He hissed softly and reached down to stroke Zayn's cock. "Where'd you put the lube?"

Zayn groaned loudly as Liam gripped him hard. He pulled his fingers out of Liam's hole and rolled over to reach into the bedside table. He pulled the small bottle out and handed it to Liam, who pulled his hand off Zayn's dick to take it. Zayn collapsed onto his back and watched as Liam popped the top off the bottle and drizzled some onto his palm. He hissed again as Liam began to stroke him once more to spread the lube around.

Liam shifted onto his knees and sat on Zayn's thighs to get a better angle. He poured a little more lube into his palm and rubbed intake into Zayn's member. Once he was sure his lover was nice and slick, Liam lifted up on his knees and eased up so that he was in the perfect position to take him in. Both men groaned as Zayn's tip passed Liam's rim. Liam eased down slowly until he'd bottomed out. He panted slightly as he adjusted and then began to flick his hips slowly. He wasn't sure he'd ever fully get used to the stretch, but he also knew that he loved it. He grabbed the headboard and bucked his hips faster. It burned deep inside him, but he couldn't help but want more.

Zayn grabbed his hips and slid Liam up and down on his cock. Their hips rolled together faster and faster. Liam was getting precome on both their stomachs and he bounced up and down. Zayn wasn't sure how he could be so turned on after having gotten off twice already, but Liam was tightening around him rapidly. Zayn reached up and twisted his fingers in Liam's hair; he yanked hard. Liam twitched between them. Zayn bucked into him hard, pulling with each thrust. Liam was too turned on for words. He moaned loudly, slamming his hips back against Zayn. The head of Zayn's cock hit his prostate, and Liam groaned. He nearly collapsed it felt so good, but he managed to stay upright by tightening his grip on the headboard. Zayn yanked his hair hard as he slammed up into him; Liam came violently. He panted loudly, just as surprised as his lover. "Oh babe," Zayn whispered softly, "you made a mess."

"Sorry," Liam panted as the other man continued to drill into him. He hissed softly at the slightly pain from being continually penetrated.

Zayn slowed his thrusts a little. "Do you want me to pull out?" he asked softly, rubbing his hand along Liam's cheek.

Liam shook his head. He rolled his hips again, taking Zayn back in. "I want to feel you," he whispered.

Zayn nodded and grabbed a hold of Liam's hips again. He sped up his thrusts, pushing himself closer to the edge. He could feel it starting to build. "Always so good for me," he moaned as he felt his release building. He pulled hard on Liam's hips, without a doubt leaving bruises, and shot his release inside him. "Oh you feel great," he panted.

Liam hissed painfully as he eased off. Zayn's come dripped down his thighs and moaned softly. He'd never felt anything like it before. He reached back and pressed a finger inside his stretched hole and pressed the come back in. He couldn't help the small groan that escaped his lips. "We need to run out of condoms more often," he gasped.

Zayn chuckled darkly. "You have no idea how hot that is," he said. He couldn't help but love the blush that spread down Liam's face and neck as he pulled his hand away from his entrance. "No, don't stop unless you want to." But instead of starting again Liam laid down beside Zayn again and buried his face in the pillow. Zayn ran his hand down Liam's spine again. "We should go get you cleaned up," Zayn whispered softly.

Reluctantly Liam allowed himself to be pulled toward the shower to wash their collective come away.


	15. Return to the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that I was unable to put up this last chapter last week as planned, but I hope you guys enjoy it. It didn't turn out quite how I planned, but I've never been fantastic at series. I have plans to write more in the future, but I think I'm going to stick to one shots in the future.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave comments below or hit me up on tumblr: Silas-Lehnsherr. I am also taking requests, if anyone has any, for stories, so if there I something you'd be interested in reading, just let me know. If it interests me to, I may write it.

Chapter 15: Return to the World

Zayn watched as Liam got dressed. There was something about the slump of his shoulders that made Zayn sad. He watched his lover slowly make himself presentable and wondered if this would be the last time he would get to see Liam in all his glory. Zayn couldn't bear the thought that Liam might be about to desert him. He itched to pull Liam back onto the bed, but he knew that they could not prolong their time together any longer. He opened his mouth to speak the words he had been longing to say for hours, but instead came a question he was sure he didn't want the answer to. "Will your girlfriend come?"

Liam stiffed. "I don't know." He considered for a moment, "probably."

Zayn nodded behind him. He had been afraid of that. He knew that it was too much to expect that he would never see her again. He wasn't sure he was ready for that, but he didn't really have a choice. It was time to return to the world and leave the warmth of their bed behind.

***

Liam searched the crowd for Niall. He knew that his editor would be around somewhere and wanted to spot him as soon as possible. He knew that the happiness he had felt over the last few weeks was more than he would have ever imagined, but it was easier, he felt, to just dive back into his old life. The traces of Zayn's touch still lingered on his skin. It broke his heart to think that he might never be touched like that again, but he had chosen his path. He needed to be prepared to stick with it. He had left Zayn sitting on his bed, still naked from their latest foray, and now he needed to find that man who had helped doom him to his fate. He had chosen for better or worse.

He turned a corner and saw Niall standing next to a woman that Liam had hoped to never see again. He called out to her regardless, "Emma."

The woman turned around and gave him a searching look. It was hard to read her expression, but Liam got the impression that she was angry about something. It was then that he noticed their location. In front of them stood a table with a glass top. Trapped beneath the glass were the poems chosen to be showcased. Liam walked over to them to confirm what had gotten their attention. "Niall," he said to the man that stood with his back to him. It was not hard to read the man's expression when he turned around.

Liam took a half step back from the pair who'd come to see him. He wished that he could read their minds so that he would know what to say to calm them down. Before he could speak, Niall saw fit to. "I was just reading some of the works here. I was curious what they are supposed to be about."

Liam sensed a trap but answered anyway. "Lies. The poems are all about lies. That's the theme of this section. There are others." Emma raised her eyebrows threateningly. Liam couldn't stop speaking. "It was designed like a maze, each branch has a different theme, the art and poetry showcased reinforcing it."

"And this section is lies?" Niall asked it in a friendly manner, but Liam could yell that he was in dangerous territory.

"It is." He confirmed it with an air of a man headed for the gallows.

"And your poem in particular?"

Liam knew that he shouldn't answer; he couldn't help himself. "It's about lying about identity."

Niall looked almost amused. "About sexual identity?"

Liam sighed heavily. "You know that it is."

Niall nodded as Emma looked visibly entertained. "And you deemed that this would be an appropriate topic?" When Liam did not respond he continued on. "This was a great opportunity for you. I don't understand why you would willingly throw it all away." Liam scoffed. "Mr. Bishop made it clear that he would not allow you to continue on with that kind of behavior."

"Allow me? How can he allow me to be who I am? You want to know why I wrote that? It was true. I am tired, Niall. I don't want to spend the rest of my life struggling to write about sunshine and rainbows because those are safe topics. No one cares whether I'm gay or not, no one but the lot of you! I cannot and will not edit myself for you or anyone anymore. This is what I have to say, and you either have to accept it or watch as I leave you behind."

Niall nodded grimly. "You realize this will be breaking your contract?"

Liam shrugged. "Better broke than unable to write." He looked from Niall to Emma and sighed heavily again. Without another word he turned to go.

***

Zayn stood next to Louis and Harry, not listening to a word they had to say. He watched as Liam wove his way through the crowd. He wanted to follow but felt like he should let him go. The spell was broken. He knew they would cross paths again, he could feel it, but he also sensed that their day was yet to come.


End file.
